The past is past
by Pandora Anne
Summary: I know this has been done before, but bear with me. Set during 'Touched' In between when Buffy is kicked out and Spike comes to find her, Buffy is sent back in time to 1879.
1. Step back in time

So, this is what happens when I have a snow day and too many thoughts buzzing around in my head. I know this has been done before, but hey, I figured I would give it a shot.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Buffy or any other characters and never will, except for in my own head.

Chapter One 

Buffy lay curled up on the bed she had commandeered only hours before, knees pressed tightly against her chest. She looked hollow; a shell of her former self but that was what happened when those held closest to your heart betray you. Buffy was on the brink of sleep, had been ever since she had lain down in this strange bed but something kept her from slipping into sleep, something to keep her tethered. Presently though, her exhaustion overcame any obstacles in her path and the Slayer drifted off to sleep.

Somewhere in the darkness, a voice chanted. The voice itself was young and adolescent sounding but the words he spoke were anything but. An ancient dialect, nearly forgotten but no less terrifying. Every syllable rang with malice and bloodlust. The candles around the boy suddenly formed a giant pyre, inclosing him inside. He wasn't afraid though, the flames didn't touch him, it was like being at SeaWorld, with water on all sides of you, but still not drowning. He lifted the urn he carried in both hands over his head and his hood slipped back to reveal a teenaged boy, probably about the same age as Dawn, the fear in his eyes was obvious, but behind them hid something else, something darker and malevolent. His voice rose suddenly in a piercing, inhuman shriek and he slowly upturned the urn, spilling it directly over a small altar of sorts, with Buffy's picture at the helm.

Bright light flooded into Buffy's subconscious and stained the inside of her eyelids red. Her eyes snapped open and she gazed around at her unusual surroundings. She was outside, in the middle of what looked like a rosebush. Attempting to get up, she felt several sharp pricks in the middle of her back. _Yup, definitely a rose bush_ she thought, hoisting herself up and out of the bush. Only her Slayer balance kept her from rolling out of the plant and landing flat on her face. Her quick eyes scanned her surroundings, the rose bush she had just emerged from was one of a long line, encircling the outside of a giant, brick house or rather mansion. Buffy's mouth dropped open at the sight of it. She had never seen anything like it before and that only scared her even more. Where the hell was she? Before she could wonder anymore, a woman emerged from a side door, dressed in an old-fashioned nurse's outfit and began hurrying towards her.

"Miss Summers, what are you doing? This is hardly the time to be wasting away in the garden." As she approached Buffy, her jaw dropped in apparent shock.

"Mistress, what ever are you wearing? Please, come into the house before the police spot you." Buffy looked down at her outfit; jeans with a see-through shirt over a black tank top. She could see nothing wrong with it, sure, she had been wearing it for a while and it was on the border of Stink-town but it was an entirely fine outfit in her eyes but certainly not in the eyes of the maid. She quickly latched onto Buffy's arm and dragged her into the mansion. On her way inside, Buffy noticed a newspaper lying on a small table. The headline cut into her; _The London Bugle, November 23rd 1879. _Buffy stood dead in her tracks. Where she was suddenly didn't matter, what did matter was when she was. '_November 23rd 1879_' she thought dizzily, _'Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore." _

Buffy stood in the middle of a strange room, still trying to figure out how she had made it to Victorian London. Everyone here seemed to know who she was, or more precisely, who 'Mistress Anne Summers' was. Because of this, Buffy was almost convinced that she was put here, kind of like when the monks gave her Dawn, they manipulated everyone's memories, so that it would seem like Dawn had always been there. But if that was the case, then why didn't Buffy know anything about her new surroundings? And also, Buffy was pretty sure that she hadn't seen any monks skulking around her lately. Buffy's train of thought was interrupted when her airway was suddenly cut off. She gasped deeply, but all that accomplished was a sharp, burning pain in her lungs. She glanced behind her at the young maid who was lacing up her corset.

"Would you mind loosening that a bit? I can't breathe." The young maid just raised an eyebrow and continued strapping Buffy into the whalebone torture device. The maid that had found Buffy in the bushes bustled in, clicking her tongue.

"Now, now, Miss Summers, what is breath compared to beauty?" Buffy opened her mouth to snap at the woman but the lack of oxygen traveling to her brain left her mute. Behind her, the maid finished her inhumane torture and was now attempting to force layer after layer of petticoat over the corset and giant underclothing. Through the hustle and bustle in the room, the older maid's voice rang out like a bell, with clear confidence.

"Remember, Miss, your new employer's name is Carleton, Mistress Anne and her son" Buffy's head emerged out of the numerous folds of fabric and she saw the maid smiling kindly.

"You see, Miss, your new employer is named Anne as well, so there will be no way to forget her name" Buffy shot her a scathing look. _Who did this woman think she was talking to? A three year old? _Buffy said as much.

"I'm not an idiot, I can remember names." The maid looked chastised and not a little shocked.

"I never said so, Miss, I just didn't want you to forget" Buffy didn't wan to give up the fight this easily but all her arguments were disappearing along with several of her brain cells, due to the almost complete lack of air in her lungs. The maids around her finished with the petticoats and began to lower her dress over her head.

"As you know, you are to be Mistress Anne's companion"

"Companion?" Buffy broke in and the maid sighed.

"You are to keep Mistress Carleton company"

"But they'll pay me for it?"

"Yes"

"So, I'm like a hooker?" Everyone in the room inhaled sharply and paused in their incessant pinning and prodding.

"Certainly not." The older maid said, pursing her lips together so tightly they had gone white.

"You are to be a friend to Mistress Carleton for the last days of her life."

"She's dying?" Now, the maid's face was creased with impatience but a touch of sadness and worry flittered briefly across it.

"Yes, Ma'am, of consumption" Buffy had no idea what consumption was, but by the look in the maid's eyes, she knew that it wasn't good. Finally finished with her dress, the maids around Buffy began on her hair, twirling it into a braid that hung over her left shoulder. The older maid (who Buffy was beginning to realize was the housekeeper) swept a critical eye over Buffy, who was beginning to feel like a doll and nodded, pleased. Intrigued, Buffy looked at herself in the full-length mirror and gasped, despite the pain. She looked gorgeous, if she did say so herself. The dress was plain, at least by Victorian standards. Some stiff brown fabric, bringing out the brown in her eyes, all the edges were embroidered with small brown flowers. The gloves they handed her were a few shades darker than the dress and if she really racked her brain, Buffy could pull out a piece of information that she had found useless at the time, this type of outfit was called travel wear. With a groan, Buffy realized what that meant, she was going to have to repeat this torturous at least once more today. The housekeeper kept babbling on, once she was sure Buffy looked presentable.

"Now, no matter what you do, _do not _mention our recent . . . . . fall from grace." She averted her head to speak to one of the younger maids, clearly taking Buffy's keen hearing for granted.

"It's just terrible what happened, her parents dying, leaving all those debts, it's a miracle we were able to afford a large enough wardrobe. I shudder to think what would have happened if we hadn't secured her this job in time." The two maids bustled off and the remaining maids followed suit, leaving Buffy to wrestle her way out the door by herself. _This isn't going to be easy, _Buffy thought pessimistically.


	2. Introductions

Chapter two 

The carriage pulled up with a start in front of a majestic house. It was bigger than the house that Buffy had started this time travel trip in, but understated somehow, as if it was hiding a dark, beautiful secret inside that didn't quite convey to the outside image. A footman opened Buffy's door for her and extended his hand to help her down the carriage stairs. Though she was quite capable of descending the stairs herself, she slipped her gloved hand into his, realizing that she was going to have to adhere to the rules of the time for the duration of her stay, however long that may be. Releasing her hand, the footman went around to where Buffy's luggage had been strapped to the back of the carriage and began to haul it up the stairs. Buffy moved to help him when the end of her trunk slipped, but he drew back, muttering something about how she shouldn't concern herself with his job. She started to argue, but noticed another male servant hurrying towards them to help the footman. When he reached the Slayer, he appraised her with a snooty look that could only have been bred by high-class living his whole life, finding her worthy, he inquired;

"Miss Summers, I presume?" Buffy gave a half nod. Looking pleased that she had arrived, he continued;

"We were waiting for you. If you don't mind, Miss Davies, the housekeeper is waiting for you at the side entrance." Buffy breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that she didn't have to climb the enormous stairs leading to the front door. Thanking the manservant, she made her way to the side of the house, the train of her dress becoming heavier with every step as it accumulated the dew of who knows how many mornings. _England, remember?_ She told herself silently _all fog, rain and clouds._ Despite everything else Buffy was going to have to adapt to, she found herself silently mourning the bright cloudless skies of South California. There was a dark hole in her heart that she had to convince herself didn't boast the unhappiness she felt without her friends. _I might never see them again, how are they going to fight The First without me? _Came a low pitiful voice in the back of her mind, a stronger voice quickly overcame it, _It doesn't matter, they have Faith, they don't need me, they demonstrated that earlier. _It was difficult for Buffy to realize that all the pain and heartbreak she had recently suffered at the hands of her friends had occurred only hours before. _Jetlag to the past can be a real pain in the ass_, she thought. Clearing her mind, she strode up to the plain brown door set into the stone monotony of the wall and knocked sharply. The door swung open almost immediately, revealing a rotund woman with a kind face.

"Miss Davies?" Buffy inquired. The woman smiled hugely and ushered Buffy into the house.

"Myles will be right with your things, Miss Summers and then we can find you your room before you go to meet Mistress Anne and Master William." Behind her, Buffy heard the huffing of the two men carrying her trunk and she hastily followed the housekeeper out of the small room and into the larger part of the house. Once inside the main hall, Buffy had to stand and stare at the opulence that surrounded her. She had been right about the inside of the house hiding a dark and beautiful secret, the decorations adorning her surroundings were beautiful but tastefully done, there was no danger of going overboard in this house. Miss Davies came up behind her and whispered in her ear;

"Magnificent, isn't it?" Buffy nodded, the beauty of the house and the constraint the corset put on her lungs made it impossible to speak. When she finally came back to herself, Miss Davies was already half-way across the hall and Buffy had to hurry to catch her, her Slayer speed hampered by the innumerable layers of clothing. Before Buffy could catch up with her, the housekeeper began to climb a large flight of stairs. Buffy groaned and hitched up her skirts, preparing herself for the ordeal. Once they had cleared they had cleared the stairs, Miss Davies led Buffy down a hall and into a small room. She stood back to let Buffy examine her room. It was big, much bigger than her room at home. The bed was covered in rich, blue hued sheets, which looked suspiciously like silk. There were paintings covering the wood paneled and a large embroidered carpet covering the stone floor. Set in a niche just a little way away from her bed, was a desk with a sewing machine set upon it and a small bookcase right next to it. An unfamiliar voice broke into Buffy's study;

"The bookcase was William's idea" Buffy whirled around to see and older woman leaning against the doorframe to Buffy's room. This was Miss Carleton, Buffy assumed as Miss Davies dropped into a curtsey at the sight of her. Buffy kneeled in an awkward curtsey but Miss Carleton quickly raised her to her feet.

"Now, now, you don't need to curtsey for me; you are a friend, a friend I am paying for, granted, but a friend nonetheless." Her soft laughter immediately put Buffy at ease. Miss Carleton greatly reminded Buffy of her own mother. The Mistress of the house crossed the room to reach Buffy and studied her. Her movements were slow and obviously weakened by illness, but she still carried herself with a sense of pride that illness could never erase. Out of the blue, she remarked;

"You have nice eyes" Buffy was taken aback.

"Thank you" she said. Nodding, Miss Carleton took Buffy's hand and began to lead her from the room.

"I can tell this is going to be a good thing. Please, call me Anne, what is your name?" Buffy blushed.

"My name is Anne as well" Anne's smile widened immediately.

"Well, isn't that remarkable? Would it be alright if I called you Miss Anne, so as not to confuse our two names? I may still look young but too many years and too many corsets have severely impaired my memory" Buffy laughed along with her new employer, she was definitely going to like this woman. When they crossed the threshold, though, Buffy turned back.

"But I need to change . . . . . ." Anne laughed again.

"Don't worry about it, dear, you look lovely, you can change after you meet William" Buffy cast a confused look towards the housekeeper, who mouthed 'Her son' towards Buffy. Understanding flooded Buffy's oxygen deprived mind and she allowed herself to be led by Anne down the hall, towards a large set of French doors.

"I imagine he will be in the library, it is where he spends most of his time." Buffy nodded, then in an awkward attempt to make conversation, said;

"The room is lovely" Anne smiled in easy pleasure.

"I'm so glad you like it. There was some talk of you sleeping in the servant's quarters but I absolutely balked at the idea. I wanted you to be near my room." She motioned to a door as they passed it,

"I hope you don't mind."

"No, no, of course not." The two women paused in front of the French doors and Anne smiled indulgently as she knocked lightly. A voice rang out to meet them;

"Yes?"

"William, dear, it's mum, I just wanted to introduce you to Miss Anne, my new companion." There was a pause and then;

"Come in" Anne attempted to push open the doors but found that she was too weak so Buffy took over for her. Anne smiled her gratitude and led Buffy into the room. Even with all the opulence Buffy had seen today, the library still took her almost non-existent breath. Almost every one of the walls was covered in bookcases, except for one that housed a large cherry wood desk, which was overflowing with papers and inkwells. The bookcases were overstuffed with volumes of every shape and size and a man with curly brown stood with his back to them in front of one of the cases. He was bent over a book, dressed in beige pants, a white shirt and a beige vest.

"William?" Anne called. The man quickly inserted a bookmark to mark his place and turned to face them. Small wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose but Buffy recognized him immediately. Spike.

"Oh crap"

Both Carletons turned to face a very red-faced Buffy, who was on the edge of unconsciousness, stemming from the lack of oxygen traveling through her veins.

"I beg your pardon?" Spike asked, he removed his glasses and cleaned them on a handkerchief he had just pulled from his vest pocket, refusing to look at Buffy, his cheeks flushing crimson red. The look was so characteristically 'Giles' that for a second, Buffy felt like laughing but somehow knew that it wouldn't help her situation.

"Um, I said . . . . . . " Buffy was saved from having to answer, when Anne cut her off.

"William, darling, this is Miss Anne Summers; she is to be my companion." Spike continued to study the floor as if he was searching for diamonds.

"Very pleased to meet you" he said under his breath, before turning to put away the book in his hand. Buffy was shocked; the pre-souled, pre-chipped Spike would have had her on the floor, with her throat half torn out by now and they way he told it, his human alter-ego hadn't been much different. As he moved away, Anne whispered in Buffy's ear;

"Don't worry, dear, he's just shy, he does want you here, it was his idea that I get a companion after all." Spike had returned, so Anne turned to face him innocently.

"So, um, Miss Summers, I'm very glad you're here" Anne prodded Buffy in the side with her elbow and shot her a look that said; '_See, I told you'_.

"As you know, my mother is sick and I did not relish the thought of her spending her final days alone." Before she could stop herself, Buffy broke in;

"But what about you? You keep her company, don't you?" Spike looked even more flustered than before and he gazed worriedly at his mother.

"Well, yes, of course, but I meant; someone of her own gender, someone she can speak to about, well, womanly things." Spike was so disconcerted that Buffy couldn't help reflecting on how cute he was. His cheeks flushed red, and his skin a healthy, living color, not the pasty pale complexion she had grown used to seeing on him. Vampire-Spike probably would have kicked William's ass, he was so mild and shy that he didn't even seem to be the same man.

"Miss Summers, it was very nice to meet you, but if you don't mind, I have to get back to work, I trust I will see you tomorrow?"

"Certainly not!" Anne remarked sharply. Shocked, Spike looked up at his mother.

"Pardon, mother?" he asked, struggling to keep his tone even.

"Miss Anne will be eating supper with us tonight and every night after that." Spike looked like he was about to faint.

"She is not a servant, she is a friend and will be treated as such" Anne spoke with such quiet authority that Buffy knew Spike wouldn't dare argue with her. He didn't, so, pleased; Anne bade her son good-bye and swept from the room.

"Very pleased to see you, Mr. Carleton" she said, voice hushed. She didn't know what was coming over her; it was like she was becoming fully enveloped in the 'Anne Summers' character. She dropped a quick curtsey and turned to leave. Spike's soft voice floated over to her.

"Please, it's William, if you don't mind" Buffy nodded and smiling to herself, left the room.


	3. A step forward

Chapter three 

The clear sound of a whip slapping skin echoed throughout the vast chamber followed by ghastly, inhuman screams. Drusilla paced in front of the chained prisoner and his Turok-Han torturer. Her delicate features were twisted in anger.

"You, stupid lamb, you tried to break up our pretty little family. Spread some magic dust on the Slayer, helped her hide, helped her win."

"No, no, no!" The boy screamed, his eyes flashing wide with terror.

"I would never help the Slayer; it was for you, always for you." Drusilla examined the boy, before clicking her tongue. The Turok-Han drew back the whip once more and dealt the boy a debilitating blow to the chest. Air wheezed in and out of his mouth, for a moment, channeling Buffy's spirit who was now stuck in London over a hundred years ago. Drusilla grinned maliciously.

"Tell mummy all about it." Smoothly, she slid into her Darla guise and moved closer to the boy, nose sniffing at the blood oozing from his chest. The blood was tinged with the sweet scent of bone-shattering terror. Darla/The First yearned for just a taste, just a dribble of the blood.

"I, I found this spell book, in Sumerian, I think and they had something about transporting someone's essence somewhere else or sometime else." A slow grin began to crease Darla's face.

"So, you haven't hidden her, you've gotten rid of her?" The boy nodded frantically.

"Yes, yes, she's gone she won't come back." Darla grinned evilly.

"That's what they said the last time." Turning to the Turok-Han, she snapped her fingers.

"Keep up the good work; use any methods necessary for extracting more information." The boy's eyes were flashing with fear again.

"No, wait, I'll tell you what you need to know, you don't have to keep torturing me." Darla's grin widened even bigger.

"Oh, I don't need to, but I want to."

Buffy sat at the table across from Spike, with Anne to her left. The two Carletons kept up a steady hum of conversation, while Buffy reflected on her situation. She was stuck, she knew that much, she didn't know how she got here, so she couldn't know how to get back. She mentally ran down her list of enemies but quickly conceded defeat. There wasn't a demon out there that didn't want her dead. Well, other than Angel and Spike and they weren't exactly demons. Buffy shook her head, she was getting off track. Anne's sweet musical voice burst into Buffy's thoughts.

"Sorry?"

"William and I were just discussing an upcoming trip down to the local museums and were wondering if what you thought on the matter"

"Oh, um." Buffy was flustered, though nowhere near as disconcerted as Spike had been in the library earlier.

"Honestly, I haven't had the time to visit any of the museums in the area, so I really don't know if I would be a proper judge on the matter." Anne looked pleased though and turned to face her son.

"Do you see, William? Miss Anne has never been to the museums, we can't let her live her life without paying a visit to them, we would be depriving the poor girl" Anne's voice was gently wheedling but Spike seemed all but impervious to it.

"But Mother, the doctor said any un-needed exercise would only aggravate your condition."

"So, I'll take the wheelchair" Shock blared suddenly across Spike's face,

"But you hate the chair" Anne cocked her head to one side and spooned some soup into her mouth.

"But I'm beginning to love Miss Anne and we cannot let an opportunity like this pass her by." Spike exhaled softly, making up his mind.

"Very well, but only if you promise to use the chair" Anne raised her hand in a solemn vow.

"I promise." Buffy couldn't help smiling and looked down into her soup to hide her grin. When she lifted her eyes slightly, Spike was looking at her, intently, like he was trying to see into her soul, she kept her vision low, so that he wouldn't look away. Spike had always made her feel warm, protected, well, at least when he wasn't trying to kill her. That's why she had used him; she had taken his feelings for her and manipulated them to make herself feel better. She tried to contain the flush that spread across her cheeks, so that he wouldn't misinterpret it as embarrassment at his gaze. Self-consciously, Buffy checked her outfit to make sure she looked presentable. Anne had assigned a maid to help Buffy and the woman had done a wonderful job. Buffy had switched the brown traveling clothes for a deep wine colored evening dress. The train trailed out behind her in a large fan and the neckline was trimmed in delicate lace. Buffy was coming to the conclusion that Victorian clothing suited her and despite the corsets and multitude of fabric, she was beginning to enjoy the clothes. When she finally looked up at Spike, he was staring at his mother with such deep respect and love that Buffy realized that this wasn't Spike, the evil blood-sucking fiend turned demon fighter, turned ensouled champion she was dealing with, it was William, the kind-hearted, meek English poet who had probably never left his mother's side for more than a few days. She could see how Spike would want to forget about that part of his past but honestly, at this point, Buffy wasn't sure which she liked better.


	4. The first night

Hi, I'm sorry for the very short chapter but there is tons more on the way, so please, let me know what you think.

And just so we're clear: Joss Whedon owns: Everything. I own: Nothing.

Chapter four

The steaming hot mug Buffy was clutching between both hands, quickly spread warmth throughout her body. She had to keep reminding herself that she was in London during the winter and she had to learn how to cope with it. Earlier in the evening, during dinner, Anne had told Buffy to visit the library anytime she wished, which was exactly what she was doing. There were a lot of things Buffy needed to figure out but first and foremost Buffy needed to learn more about  
Anne Summers and her family history. The blonde Slayer shifted the mug to one hand and knocked on the heavy wooden doors. A young brunette carrying a striking resemblance to Dawn answered Buffy's knock.

"Um, hi, I'm B . . . . . Anne, Miss Carleton's companion." The girl's face stretched into a wide grin and she flung the doors open.

"Oh, Miss Anne, Mistress Carleton told me to let you in. I'm Becky." Buffy found her face stretching to match Becky's.

"Hi Becky, it's nice to meet you"

"You as well, Miss Anne" Going back to her dusting, Becky called over her shoulder;

"Please, feel free to look around, this is your home too now". Buffy smiled in gratitude and turned to browse the shelves. As she examined the multitude of titles, the crackling of the fire and the muffled sounds of Becky working calmed Buffy into a half-sleep. Back when the original Sunnydale High was still standing, the library had been the Scoobies' home base and it had always been a place of great peace and junk food, despite it being perched on the Hellmouth. Buffy was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't hear anyone behind her until they cleared their throat. Buffy whirled around, reaching for the stake she always kept hidden on her person. It wasn't there of course, she wasn't the Slayer in this time period and it wasn't like there was going to be any stakes lying around. She didn't need it anyway, it was only William. Buffy laid a hand on her corset enhanced chest.

"My God, you scared the cra . . . . . . life out of me." William looked down, removed his glasses and began to clean them.

"I'm sincerely sorry, Miss Summers, I didn't mean to frighten you" Buffy smiled at his almost debilitating shyness.

"It's quite alright and my name is Anne or Miss Anne as your mother calls me. But please, not Miss Summers, it makes me feel old." She shot him a half smile. William cocked his head to the side and gazed up at Buffy through his eyelashes. It was a look Spike used many times but it was disconcerting seeing it on William. He gave Buffy a stiff nod and turned away.

"I hope you don't mind my being here, in the library." William stiffened and replied without turning.

"Of course not, this is your home too."

That night, Buffy lay awake under her new covers. It was dangerous, what she was doing. When one visited a different dimension or time, it was imperative that they not form bonds or relationships because when one went back home, there were sure to be questions concerning their disappearances _But what if I don't go home? What if I stay here? There's no one back home who will miss me, other than Spike and it's not like my Slayer skills are in high demand now that Faith is back. And also, here, there's already a Slayer so I don't need to fight any battles here other than getting into my corset every morning and bonus, pretty clothes._ Buffy tried not to let Spike or William affect her train of thought but he kept slipping in when she didn't expect him. So, long after her candle burnt out, Buffy the Vampire Slayer lay awake, pondering her future.


	5. A poet's heart

Chapter five

The next few days passed in a blur. Buffy found herself settling into a new routine. Each morning, she would wake up, get dressed (a much longer ordeal then she was used to), eat breakfast with Anne and William, William then left for work, Anne and Buffy spent the day reading, sewing or doing needlepoint, (Buffy had confided in Anne that she had never actually sewn anything and they put the sewing machine in Buffy's room to good use. Anne was an enthusiastic teacher and Buffy didn't have the heart to tell her that she was never big with the household stuff.). Both women then got dressed for dinner while awaiting William's return. Anne went to bed soon after supper and Buffy and William retired to the library, often times on complete opposite ends of the room, the two only talked when courtesy demanded it. Buffy, of course, yearned to speak with him, longed to know the man Spike was before he died but William acted as though she didn't exist. Buffy, always paranoid, began to worry that, even with his soul, it wasn't the man inside of Spike that loved her, it was the demon. One night, eager to rid herself of such thinking, she addressed William, who was sitting at the desk with his back to her, scribbling furiously.

"Would you read me some?" William lifted his head, surprised, but of course, still not looking at Buffy.

"Pardon?" From where she was sitting, Buffy could see the tips of his ears redden.

"Whatever it is you're always writing, would you read me some?" From the stacks, the sound of Becky's dusting abruptly stopped as she, too, waited for his answer.

"No, I don't think that would be a good idea." Buffy nodded, hurt and realized at the last second that he couldn't see her nod. She returned to her book, trying not to show her disappointment. After a few minutes though, William packed up his things and left the room, stung, Buffy could only watch him go. Once he left the library, William went directly to his room, not bothering to check on his mother. He gently placed his precious writing supplies on his desk and sat on his bed, holding his head in his hands. He could hear his heartbeat racing wildly and he mentally willed it to slow down, When he had sufficiently relaxed, he removed his head from his hands and carefully studied the ink-stained document he had been working on in the library

'A golden wave crashing down upon porcelain skin,

Her breath more sweet than summer's breeze,

Her eyes dance and sway along to the beat of my heart, barely contained within my breast.

Every look she gives me, I sink a little lower,

Fall a little farther.

She is the fire that sets my blood aflame,

The object of all my dreams.

She is the one I have been waiting for.'

_Trash, _he thought, _complete and utter rubbish. _Crumpling it violently into a ball, he stuffed it into the trash. Flopping back onto his bed, he sighed heavily and thought of nothing but a fair haired, brown eyed maiden.

The next morning, the morning of the trip to museum, dawned bright and fair. The air, of course, was crisp but it was the best weather to be expected for a November day in London. Buffy, forewarned by both Anne and Miss Davies of the dirty streets of downtown London, dressed appropriately. The brown dress Buffy had arrived in along with the matching plaid jacket and no train was deemed suitable. After the customary torture session of getting her corset on, Buffy emerged from her room and swept down the stairs to where William and Anne were waiting.

"Oh my dear, that dress sets off your eyes beautifully" William, who was reading a small notebook gave her a cursory glance before doing a double take. Buffy laughed, not noticing his stare.

"Yes, well, it better look good, I'll be wearing it quite often, I'm running out of clothes." Anne clicked her tongue disapprovingly.

"Now that won't do. We'll have to remedy that". Buffy was quick to protest;

"No, Anne, don't worry about it, I'll be fine."

"Nonsense, I will not have you wearing just anything. Anne Carleton takes care of her friends." Buffy hid a snicker, for one fleeting moment Anne had sounded just like a mafia boss. Resolutely changing the subject, Anne turned to William who, realizing that both women were looking at him, returned to his book.

"William, what do you think of Miss Anne's dress?"

"Hmm? Oh, it's very nice." Miss Davies came up behind them pushing an old-fashioned wheel-chair and positioned herself behind Anne. Anne noticed her and sighed.

"Oh, William, do I have to? It makes me feel so old." William's voice was quietly begging, but with an undertone of exasperation.

"Mother, this was the only reason I agreed to this trip was on the condition that you use this chair. If you don't use it, maybe we should just cancel the trip." Although Anne was clearly unhealthy, she was still mentally strong and she knew how to stand her ground.

"Now, William, I didn't realize that sometime in the last ten minutes, you became the parent and I became the child." Spike had always been stubborn to the point of pig-headedness and now Buffy saw where he got it from. She knew that they would keep picking at each other until she did something. Without thinking about the consequences, Buffy jumped into the wheel chair and turning the wheels, spun herself into a series of small circles. When she turned to face the bickeringmother-son pair, they were both staring at her, open-mouthed.

"See," she said, "Its fine." Buffy jumped to her feet, well, as much as jumping as she could do in a corset. Anne smiled, bemused and without another word, lowered herself into the chair. For the first time since she had arrived, William stared at her openly.

"Miss Sum . . . . I meanAnne; you are quite unlike anyone I have ever met." Unsure how to reply, Buffy smiled uneasily;

"Um, thanks" Henry, the butler opened the door and Buffy swept past William out into the street. He stared after her, unable to move. Miss Davies pushed Anne out of the door, pausing as they went by William.

"William, darling, close your mouth, you're starting to drool." Anne said to her son, leaving him to wonder at the intricacies of the female race


	6. Fall

Chapter six 

Buffy was dying. She had been walking around the museum with William, Anne and Miss Davies for several hours already and she was on the verge of passing out. Buffy had fought pretty much every demon and evil oogy-boogy out there and won but she was fighting a losing against the torture device strapped to her chest. William, cheeks flushed and obviously excited, was pointing out various exhibits, Buffy tried desperately to pay attention, this was what she wanted, she wanted to learn more about William and what he was passionate about, but the pain was almost unbearable. Buffy strained to keep a neutral expression on her face but the lack of oxygen was beginning to affect her ability to control her motor skills. William glanced towards her and a look of concern flitted across his face.

"Miss Anne, are you alright? You look like you're in pain." Buffy attempted to smile but it came out looking more like a grimace.

"I'm fine, there's just a pebble in my shoe." William didn't seem convinced, but returned to the exhibits, sensing that she didn't want to create a fuss, but moved a fraction of an inch closer to her, in case she fainted and he needed to catch her. _This is ridiculous, I'm the Slayer, I don't faint, I just need to lie down for a little bit._ As she was thinking this, Buffy's oxygen deprived legs gave out and she was unconscious before she hit the floor.

Behind him, William heard a heavy thud and his mother's cry of shock; he spun around to see Miss Anne on the floor and his mother tottering to her feet. Rushing to Anne's side, he laid his fingers against her wrist to test her pulse. It was weak but definitely there. When he spoke, his voice was filled with quiet authority;

"Mother, please, get back into your wheelchair, I do not want to have to contend with two fainting victims." Without putting up a fight, Anne sat back obediently, in the chair.

"You there," William singled out a member of the small crowd they had attracted;

"Go fetch the doctor, this woman needs medical help." The man ran off, presumably in search of the doctor, leaving William to tend to Miss Anne. He laid his warm hand against her cheek and patted it softly.

"Anne, Miss Anne, please wake up. I need you to wake up" William was sitting on the floor of the museum, cradling his mother's companion's head in his lap, all traces of refinement and manners forgotten. People were sure to talk about this, sure to make up some rumor challenging both Anne and William's decency, but at that moment William honestly couldn't care less. The only thing he could think of was Miss Anne.

Buffy was sitting up in her bed, with her blankets tucked up to her chin. Everyone had been bustling around her, practically worrying her to death ever since the party returned home from the museum. She thought it was all too much, she had died _twice_ and these people were making a huge deal over a fainting spell. There was a quiet knock at her door and William's voice came floating over to her;

"How is she feeling?" He asked the nurse that Anne had assigned to Buffy the first day she came, Catherine or something.

"_She_ is fine" Buffy grumbled, attempting to swing her legs over the side of her bed, but Catherine pushed her back.

"She's still a little weak; she just needs to get some rest." The maid answered. William cleared his throat and walked away.

"Great" Buffy griped, "I'm being treated as an invalid now, don't I even have the power to decide how I'm feeling?" Catherine giggled,

"Of course, ma'am, I just didn't want Master William to worry."

"Yeah, like he would worry about me." The young maid looked at Buffy, clearly stunned.

"Why, Miss Anne, how could you say such a thing? Master William was very worried about you before; I've never seen him pale as when they brought you home."

"I have" Buffy mumbled under her breath, the maid ignored her and went on, moving closer and whispering in a low, secretive tone, the kind one adopts when about to divulge a juicy piece of gossip.

"In fact, I think he quite fancies you"

"Fancies?"

"You know, finds you attractive, has a desire for your company."

"Well, if he does, he has a funny way of showing it." Again, Catherine looked at Buffy as if she just asked her who the Queen of England was.

"But Miss Anne, he has been quite forward with you, well, as forward as Master William can be." Buffy was intrigued, but didn't want to show the maid as much.

"If you don't mind, I think I will take a nap, the fainting spell must have taken more out of me than I thought." Catherine nodded; her eyes filled to the brim with curiosity and a million unanswered questions and bustled from the room. Buffy sat up in her bed, leaning against the headboard, trying to clear her mind of thoughts she knew she shouldn't be having.


	7. Confessions or something like it

Chapter seven 

William sat in the library, as far away from Miss Anne as he could manage without actually leaving the room. He couldn't be near her, even from this distance his attraction to her nearly overwhelmed any lessons in propriety that he had ever learnt. He wanted her, more than any proper gentleman should ever want a lady, but he couldn't help himself. His feelings were overpowering him, he was drowning in them and he honestly had never felt better or worse. It was obvious that she would never feel anything for him as strongly as he felt for her. Every look, every smile, every laugh she gave him robbed him of yet another piece of his heart that he knew he would never get back. He watched a small frown crease her forehead and he wondered what the cause of it was. _Her book, no doubt, as if an insignificant man like myself could ever enter into her thoughts._ He shook his head and forced himself to look away from her. He was in love with her, he had known it ever since he had seen her on the floor of the museum, perhaps even before then, perhaps he had been in love with her since he first met her, but he couldn't allow himself to show her that, not only was it improper, but it was wrong, she would never even consider him. Her breath against the side of his neck startled him and he nearly leapt up from his chair in surprise, even though he was almost constantly aware of her presence, she still managed to sneak up on him when he was least expecting it.

"What are you reading?" she asked, gazing over his shoulder, almost touching him, the scent of her was intoxicating and he couldn't seem to remember what was the title of the novel in his hands. He practically jumped up out of his chair, in an effort to put some distance between them, he couldn't look at her, couldn't look in those unbelievable brown eyes without confessing his feelings.

"It's of little consequence, it's only a book." Even though he wasn't looking at her, he could feel her eyes on him, searing into him, trying to look into his very soul. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see her cross her arms over her chest.

"Alright, now I now something's wrong." He was shocked into looking up at her for a fraction of a second.

"Whatever do you mean?" She smiled, stealing away another piece of his heart.

"I have working here for nearly a month and I have never once heard you speak badly of any type of literature. You can tell me, I can keep a secret." Her face was honest, open and he had to stop himself from staring at her, open-mouthed. He looked down at the book in his hand, more just to have something to distract him from her face and the title emerged in his swirling thoughts.

"Um, Romeo and Juliet, I'm reading Romeo and Juliet. It's a favorite of mine." He blushed easily, the only thing that came easily to him when he was near her.

"I've never actually read it" Again, she shocked him into looking up at her.

"You've never read it?"

"No, well, I saw the movie . . . . I mean the play but I've never read it." Ignoring the wild beating of his heart, he strode swiftly over to her, eyes filled with passion.

"But the play cannot do it justice. The words speak of hidden passion and longing that can never be fully portrayed by actors speaking lines. Every line is filled with such unbelievable heartache that you feel your very heart break along with the characters." William was suddenly aware that he was spilling his heart to his own Juliet and immediately repented.

"I am truly sorry, Miss Anne, I don't know what came over me." She gently laid a hand on his arm, the heat of it sending delicious shivers throughout his body. He tried to move, he really did but he couldn't quite get his brain to relay the message to his muscles.

"Please, do not apologize, William, there is no shame in speaking about what you are passionate about. Passion drives us, fuels us, it keeps us alive." He was weak, God help him, he almost confessed everything there, almost swept her up into his arms and let all of the ardor that had welling up inside of him spill over. She was close, too close for polite society, but there was no society here, only the two of them, and the maid, he mustn't forget the maid. The remembrance that there was someone else in the room other than the two of them cooled his fervor; he couldn't tell her anything where there was the possibility of being overheard. He drew back reluctantly and thought he saw a spark of disappointment deep within Miss Anne's seemingly impenetrable eyes.

"Passion is nothing but misguided thoughts and emotions." He said, unable to tear his eyes away from hers and he was sure she could see past his lies.

"You don't believe that, do you, William?" his body thrilled as she said his name and he pushed his feelings down, knowing that he had to preserve her honor.

"No, I don't" His voice was husky and he cleared his throat, 'But polite society demands that I say so." The pain in her eyes was visible but he couldn't fathom the reason behind it.

"Have you ever been in love, William?" Her question came out of nowhere; he didn't have time to formulate a lie, but that didn't mean he had to divulge everything.

"Yes"

"Then you know what passion really is, the uncontrollable urge to be theirs, only theirs and have them be yours forever." This was the closest he had ever been to her and he could feel the sparks of electricity flowing between them. He swallowed hard,

"Have you ever been in love, Miss Anne?" His question seemed to quell her fiery mood slightly.

"I have, he broke my heart." She smiled bitterly, remembering some past torment and his heart broke for her.

"I guess you could say it was a modern retelling of Romeo and Juliet."

"I'm sorry" he told her honestly. He was sorry, sorry she had had her heart broken, sorry that she was still obviously in pain about it but most of all he was sorry that his feelings could never match up to the love she had felt for this ex-lover.

"It's over; it's been over for a while." But he could see in her eyes that it would be haunting her forever, always in the back of her mind. He nodded, finally tearing his eyes away from her, breaking the spell. He turned to leave, but Miss Anne kept a firm hold on his arm.

"William?" Her voice was throaty, quietly pleading. He turned back, knowing he had to leave soon or he wouldn't be able to stop himself from doing something he could never take back.

"Yes?" he asked, struggling to keep his voice even.

"Could you read it to me sometime? Romeo and Juliet, I mean. I can't think of anyone better to introduce it to me." He nodded, no longer trusting his voice, he turned once more to leave, but she stopped him again, swiveling him around so he was facing her again. She pressed her lips to his so gently that at first he wasn't sure if he had imagined it all but when she pulled back, for an instant, he could see reflected in her eyes everything that was buried within his.

"Thank you" she whispered and before he could react, she swept from the room, leaving William more confused then he had ever been.


	8. A twilight meeting

Chapter eight

After Buffy left William in the library, she fed Catherine a half-hearted excuse about needing air and after putting on her jacket to guard herself against the bitter London December night, she rushed out the door before Catherine could say anything about an escort. Despite her numerous layers, the cold bit into Buffy almost as soon as she left the house. She wandered aimlessly, trying to distract herself from the numbing cold and her conversation with William. Many things had become clear in her mind in the last few minutes. First; it was freezing, second; if she hadn't been in love with William, she was now and last; she was going to have to break his heart. Sometime during their little exchange in the library, she had fallen in love with him and all his future incarnations, despite their past, or rather future in this case. And she also knew that she couldn't stand in the way of William's destiny. He was destined to be turned by Drusilla, destined to become a bloodsucking fiend, destined to kill two Slayers, destined to get his soul back, destined to fall in love with her . . . .again. And it didn't matter how much she loved him, she couldn't change that, she had stepped in the way of fate too many times to know it never ended well. As she was caught up in her seemingly endless pool of thoughts, she heard an all too familiar voice disguised behind a thick Irish accent.

"Now, now, what is a pretty young lass like yourself doing wandering the streets alone?" Buffy whirled around and found herself face to face with Angelus.

"Oh crap" she said. It was just her luck that she would find herself on a dark deserted street with the Scourge of Europe.

"Come now, don't be like that, I just want to talk." He advanced on her but Buffy stood her ground, she had faced Angelus before, in worse circumstances than this.

"Oh come on, Angelus, I bet you say that to all the girls you meet in the dark allies." A brief look of surprise flashed across his face, before being replaced by deceiving kindness.

"Well, if you know my name, I think it's only fair you tell me yours."

"You'll know it soon enough" His handsome face slid into the distorted vampire face she knew all too well.

"I think not", he grinned, his glowing yellow eyes flashing evilly. Buffy crossed her arms and stood her ground, refusing to back down.

"Oh, so is this the part where I run screaming and you ravage me limb from limb?"

"That's pretty much what I was thinking; make sure to scream really loud." Angel rushed her and she sidestepped him.

"Yeah, I don't think so" He swung around and aimed a punch to her abdomen. She took it, hard and the wind rushed out of her. She gasped in pain as the whalebone holding her corset up crushed her lungs even harder then usual. Taking advantage of her weakness, Angelus sent a roundhouse kick hurtling towards Buffy's head. With some difficulty, she dodged it and kneed him directly between the legs. Man or demon, that move always hurt.

"Whoops, did I do that?" she said, with mock concern. While he was bent over, she elbowed him in the neck and he fell to the ground.

"You see, I have this anger problem and it causes me to violently lash out at other people" Raising her foot, she brought it down, hard on the back of his head.

"Wait, what am I saying? You're not a person." Catching Buffy by surprise, Angelus's leg came up, catching Buffy in the back, while she stumbled; he flipped himself up onto his feet. After they exchanged a series of punches and kicks, it was becoming increasingly obvious that Angelus was gaining the upper hand; the corset binding Buffy's ribcage was taking a lot out of her. He managed to grab both her wrists and bind them to her chest and moved in for the kill.

"See, lassie, I only wanted to talk." Buffy could feel his putrid breath against her neck and she was struck with a sudden wave of nausea.

"Now, this isn't gentlemen-y behavior, now is it?" A cool crisp female voice came over to them. Angelus whirled Buffy around until they were facing the owner of the voice.

"Becky?" Buffy asked, incredulous.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Angelus answered her question for her, snarling wildly.

"Slayer." Buffy couldn't believe her ears or her eyes. Becky was standing in front of them, clearly in attack position with a large stake clutched in her hand.

"Oh Christ, do the surprises never end?" Buffy was getting sick and tired of all the little surprises that kept popping up everywhere she turned. Becky didn't wait for them to say anything else, instead rushing Angelus, forcing him to release Buffy in surprise. The brunette Slayer executed a perfect roundhouse kick that got the vampire right in the jaw, Buffy joined in, kicking him in the back. Becky looked at her in surprise, but Buffy just shook her head and put her hand out for another stake, which Becky obligingly slapped into her palm. The two Slayers proved to be too much for the vampire and he was soon driven to his knees. Becky raised her stake, aimed directly at his chest.

"Wait!" Buffy screamed, knowing that if Becky killed Angelus now, the fabric of time would be irrevocably torn.

"You can't kill him" Becky gave her a confused look. Angelus took advantage of the distraction and scrambled to the end of the alley.

"Well, ladies, this has been a wonderful experience, but if you don't mind I'll be on my way. He bowed deeply and fled from them, not looking back.

"Do you mind telling me what that's all about?" Becky asked, eyes flashing violently. Buffy sighed,

"It's a long story. Come, let's get back home. I'll tell you everything there."


	9. A new development

This chapter might not be my best so far, I just needed to tie up the whole 'Becky being the Slayer thing' but there are much better ones coming, I promise, along with more Spuffy action so please keep reading and review if you like what you see. 

Once more; Joss Whedon owns everything and all I own is a pocketful of lint.

Chapter nine

Buffy sat in the den with Becky and Miss Davies, who had confessed to being Becky's Watcher and therefore immediately included in the Scooby meeting of sorts that the two Slayers had started, each of them was clutching a steaming mug of tea. After the tussle with Angelus in the dark alley, the two Slayers made their way back home and snuck in through the kitchen door. As they were passing through the front hall, though, Anne spotted them and demanded an explanation. Before Buffy could even fumble around for an answer, Becky burst into well-rehearsed tears.

"I'm so very sorry, Mistress Carleton. Please do not blame Miss Anne, I was upset and I fled the house. Miss Anne came looking for me. I know it was a foolish thing to do but I couldn't help myself." Anne looked as shocked at Becky's tears as Buffy was.

"Well, just see to it that it doesn't happen again." Becky nodded and waited until Anne had left before grabbing Buffy's hand and steering her towards the den. Becky and Miss Davies paced back and forth in front of Buffy, apparently attempting to figure out what to say.

"So, what are you, exactly?" Becky blurted out finally.

"Becky!" Miss Davies chastised, then thought better of it and echoed Becky's words.

"What are you? I apologize for being so crude, but you don't seem to be human and I don't think you are a vampire either."

"What is wrong with you people? Of course I'm a human, absence of fangs, feathers or scales equals not demon." Both women looked shocked, both at Buffy's outburst and her language.

"Then how do you know about the demons? And I must confess that your language and overall actions are quite baffling at times. You do not seem to be like anyone or anything I've ever encountered" Buffy squirmed, knowing that she was going to have to tell them her secret.

"Okay, you're kinda right, I am a human but I'm not like anyone you've ever met, because, honestly, this isn't my time, I come from the future." Buffy felt as though she should do the E.T lit-up finger thing to convince them. Both women were staring at Buffy in shock.

"What do you mean? How did you get here? Who are you? What year are you from?" The questions spilled forth from both women like water from a collapsed dam. Buffy held up her hand to silence them;

"My name is Buffy Summers, I come from the year 2003, I honestly have no idea how I got here and I'm the Slayer" Becky broke into a giant smile, all suspicion obviously lifted.

"Another Slayer?" she turned to Miss Davies, "Miss Davies, did you hear that?"

"I heard it, Becky, but I don't know if I believe it. What better way to infiltrate the Slayer's trust than to pose as a Slayer from the future." Buffy thought the woman's logic was flawed, perhaps bred from a lifetime of paranoia and suspicion.

"Honestly, Miss Davies, I've never heard of anything so absurd. Can't we just accept that Anne . . . . I mean Buffy is another Slayer from the future and get it over with?" The female Watcher eyed her charge warily.

"You always were more trusting than I was, Becky." She turned her scrutinizing gaze towards Buffy,

"How do I know if I can trust you?"

"I can't give you a concrete reason, but you just need to trust me. I can't explain more than that, there's the whole cosmic balance, too much info, universe go boom, you know again." Both women looked like Buffy was speaking in a foreign language, which she supposed she was, to them at least.

"You are an odd girl." Miss Davies relented finally.

"Yup, that's me, actually I even spent some time in a . . . . ." Suddenly aware that she was babbling Buffy cut herself off.

"Never mind, I'll just be going to bed now." The blonde Slayer left the room and began to make her way up the stairs.

"Miss Summers?" Miss Davies' voice came floating up to her and Buffy paused.

"Becky has just informed me that your fighting skills this evening weren't exactly, shall we say, top-notch. Becky and I will be training tomorrow night in my quarters, I expect you to be there." Buffy sighed but assented quickly, eager to get to bed. _Are you kidding me?_ She sulked, making her way to her room. _I went back in time 124 years and I still have to put up with the Slayer crap._ Reaching her room, she flung the door close and threw herself on her bed, not bothering to change for the moment. Closing her eyes, she massaged her temple with her fingers, attempting to sort out the thoughts all clamoring for position inside her mind. _BeckySlayer, Becky being the Slayer good, training for Buffy in a corsetnot so good, Angel pre-soulbad, kiss with Williamvery good, consequences of kiss with Williamgood and bad. _ Placing her head on her pillow, she heard a crackle, not unlike a piece of paper. Her eyes flew open, quickly registering the presence of a folded piece of paper on her pillow. Fingers trembling, she snatched it up and read it.

_Like poison, she is in my blood._

_The sweetest poison I've ever known._

_It dances and sways within my veins,_

_Changing me, irrevocably._

_I am never to be the same man,_

_Touched now by the sweet poison called love._

_William _


	10. Once upon a Christmas time

Chapter ten

The next few days were a blur as the entire household worked themselves into a frenzy of Christmas decorations and holiday spirit. Buffy was having a hard time adjusting to the holiday, when she had left Sunnydale, it was early summer time and here she was thrust into a winter wonderland. The Victorians sure celebrated Christmas differently than Buffy's generation. Delicate and expensive decorations adorned every available surface. At Hellmouth Central a.k.a her house, the looming threat of impending apocalypse made it impossible to consider any decorations that weren't bolted down and candles on a real Christmas tree were completely out of the question. Buffy had almost fainted when she had first seen the live, dancing flames dotting the evergreen branches, Anne had tried to convince her that it was completely safe, but Buffy still had her doubts. The day before Christmas Eve, Buffy was sitting in the den, putting up the pretense of reading a book, while actually gazing at the tree, warily. Myles, one of the man-servants rushed past the room and Buffy leapt from her seat to catch him.

"Myles!" she called, rushing after him. He slowed and turned back to her, giving her a curious look. Buffy, remembering the etiquette lessons she had begun to pick up, slowed down and spoke less frantically.

"Myles, please, if you don't mind, I know that Mistress Carleton is sending you to pick up the Christmas gifts and I was wondering if you wouldn't mind picking something up for me. I'll compensate you for it." Myles nodded.

"Of course, Miss Anne, I'll see what I can do." Buffy quickly explained to the man what she wanted and deposited her hard-earned savings into his hand. Once he had left, she returned to her seat, overlooking the burning tree, and a slip of paper slipped from the pages of her book and she bent to retrieve it. It was one of William's poems. After their moment in the library, she had found them peppering the house, under her pillow, on her plate at the supper table, being used as a bookmark in her book and she had begun to collect them, treasure them. The one that had slipped out was one of her favorites.

_Beset by an angel, my heart sings._

_Matching the notes of the most heavenly choir._

_It feels as though my heart could soar_

_And bring her back to Paradise, from whence she came_

_Though I do not for she is my Paradise and I am not eager to return her to her Heavenly throne._

Caleb and The First, in It's favorite disguise of Buffy, walked through the vineyard, deep in conversation.

"So, he admitted to sending the Slayer to a different dimension?" Caleb asked, staring at The First with unmistakable lust and hunger for power.

"Yes, he did, used an old Sumerian text. If you ask me, he was very lucky he didn't accidentally magic of his own arm." The First was visibly perturbed.

"What dimension did he send her to?" The First waved an impatient arm, watching the Bringers work on a giant piece of rock set deep into the wall.

"I don't know, you know how it is with dimensions, you can never really keep one in place long enough to send someone into it."

"But can't you sense her?"

"No, I can't" The First snapped, It's anger flowing off of It in almost physical waves, slapping Caleb in the face. He realized then why The First was so angry, It liked being in control, knowing everything and even though the Slayer couldn't physically be there to harm them, she still managed to irk them. He was going to enjoy killing her, slowly, with lots of blood. Eager not to upset The First anymore, he changed the subject.

"I still don't understand why you wouldn't let me torture him, I do miss the feeling" The First allowed a small smile to crease her borrowed face.

"I need you to keep all your bloodlust ready for the Slayer's lackeys; theirs will not be easy deaths."

"I wouldn't accept any other kind".

Miss Davies woke Buffy up early on Christmas morning with a sharp rap at her door. Buffy, still half asleep, muttered;

"Not now, Dawnie, give me ten more minutes." Miss Davies cleared her throat.

"Good morning, Miss Anne, Mistress Carleton wanted to start the day early, she expects you downstairs in a half an hour." She turned to leave but turned back and whispered, so low Buffy wasn't sure she had actually heard her;

"And Merry Christmas, Buffy." Buffy's eyes flew open. _Christmas, right. _The holiday only enforced the fact that Buffy had been in 1879 for over a month and was still no closer to getting home then she had been when she first landed in the rosebush outside her house. Apparently her friends really didn't care what happened to her, but she couldn't help wondering what had happened to them, if they had gone up against The First without her, despite her hurt and anger at being tossed, unceremoniously, out into the streets, she still worried about them, all of them. Catherine bustled into the room, placing a large wad of fabric on Buffy's desk.

"Rise and shine, Miss Anne, it's a lovely Christmas morning and Mistress Carleton has procured you a new dress." Reluctantly, Buffy lifted herself from her bed and moved to stand next to the young nurse. While Catherine arranged Buffy's new dress, Buffy caught a glimpse of it in the mirror. It was plain, tasteful. Christmas in this day and age was still a dominantly religious holiday so modesty was required. It was white, with earth-toned flowers embroidered on the empire waist, sleeves and bottom hem, but it brought out something special in Buffy's eyes, made them sparkle. Catherine noticed this and remarked;

"This dress is perfect for you; Master William will not be able to keep his eyes off of you." Catherine seemed to catch herself and quickly apologized.

"I'm sorry, Miss Anne, that just slipped off my tongue, please don't tell anyone I said it."

"Of course not, Catherine, don't give it a second thought." The young maid dropped into a small curtsey and quickly exited the room. Buffy took as deep a breath as her corset allowed, picked up the two small gifts she had lying on her desk and left the room.

William and Anne were already seated at the table when Buffy arrived, but William quickly stood up when she entered. Buffy could feel his eyes on her, even when she sat down. Anne's voice came, seemingly out of nowhere.

"William, she's seated, you don't have to stay on your feet." William, flushing crimson, quickly sat down and throughout the meal, refused to look at Buffy again. When they had finished their modest breakfast, Anne signaled that everyone move onto the den. Under the blazing Christmas tree was a sumptuous pile of gifts, Anne swept over to the chair closest to the fire and Myles handed her a gift. She read the label and called out;

"Miss Anne" Buffy went up to her and collected her gift. Anne continued this way, Myles handing her a gift, her calling out the name of the recipient, channeling the spirit of Santa Claus, and obviously enjoying it. The majority of the gifts were for Anne or William, but Buffy's name was called several times and she soon had a pile of gifts surrounding her. Once the gift well had run dry, Buffy rose to her feet and handed William and Anne their gifts.

"I know it's not much, but I was so grateful for your hospitality that I had to give you something." She said. Anne promptly ripped into the packaging, her early Santa Claus guise gone, now replaced by that of a young child.

"Oh, Miss Anne, it's lovely." She remarked when she finally freed it from its wrapping. It was a simple needle-point design of a large bouquet of flowers. It was simple, yes but Buffy's blood, sweat and tears had gone into that thing, literally. Anne turned to William, who had just finished unwrapping his gift and asked;

"What did you get, dear?" he lifted a dark blue leather bound book for his mother's inspection.

"It's a notebook" Buffy said, a blush creeping into her cheeks.

"I noticed that your old one was running out of space and I thought that you might appreciate a place to put all of your loose papers." Behind her, Becky and Miss Davies exchanged a bemused glance.

"It's very sweet of you. Miss Anne, but what do you mean by loose papers? I never write anywhere save for my notebook" Buffy's face creased with confusion,

"But I thought. . . . I kept finding these poems around the house."

"They were not mine, Miss Anne, perhaps one of the members of this household." Buffy nodded, feeling hot tears begin to fill up her eyes.

"Of course, Master William, I must be mistaken." Turning to Anne, she said;

"Anne, if you don't mind, I'd like to be excused, my head is paining me and I would enjoy a nap."

"Of course, darling, go right ahead." Buffy stumbled to her feet, dropped into an awkward curtsey and left the room. Anne turned to her son;

"What have you done now?"

Buffy, rushing up the stairs to her room, didn't hear Anne chastise her son, she was too preoccupied in her thoughts. She was in pain, yes, but it wasn't her head that pained her, it was her heart. She flung herself face down into her pillows and allowed the tears to spill freely over her cheeks. She began mentally berating herself; _how stupid was I to think that William actually cared about me? The poems could have been left by any over hormonal male in the house, there was no guarantee that they were from William. Only the first of them was signed and even then, the name had been crossed out. _Her mental lashings hurt almost as much as the fact that she had allowed herself to care deeply about someone who didn't return the feelings. In a hundred years or so, Spike would fall in love with her, but William couldn't be bothered. She had never realized until that moment, how much she wanted to prove that she could attract something other than vampires and demon fighters. There was a quiet knock at her door.

'Catherine, please, it's just a headache, don't worry about me." A soft, definitely male voice floated over to her.

"Um, it isn't Catherine." Buffy sat up quickly and wiped away the paths the tears had made on her face.

"Master William, what a surprise." Upon receiving her full attention, William looked down, suddenly very interested in the carpet at his feet.

"Yes, well, I wanted to make sure that you were alright, you fled from the den so quickly, I thought something might be wrong." Buffy forced a false smile onto her face.

"Of course not, Master William, it's just my head that pains me."

"That's what I thought." He said softly. When he didn't make a move to leave, she inquired;

"Was there something else?"

"Yes but it's of no consequence, put it out of your mind." He turned to leave but Buffy, using her Slayer speed, quickly reached him and put an arm out to keep him in place.

"Please tell me." His cheeks flushed crimson.

"I just had a gift that I didn't have a chance to give you in front of Mother and the rest of the household, it's rather personal, you see."

"May I see it?" William was shocked into looking at her, his bright blue eyes blazing with curiosity.

"Of course." He fumbled with a pocket of his jacket and removed a small gift box, handing it to Buffy. The Slayer opened it with shaking fingers. It was a small heart shaped locket. Buffy slid a nail between the clasp and it popped open. Inside there was a picture of Anne on one side and William, looking more handsome then she had ever seen him on the other side.

"It was Mother's idea; she didn't want you to forget us." Fresh tears erupted in Buffy's eyes.

"I would never forget you but it is beautiful. Would you mind putting it on for me?" Without waiting for his courtesy laced answer, Buffy turned around and lifted her hair. William falteringly draped the chain over her neck and after several minutes of missteps, managed to get the clasp closed. Turning back to him, Buffy let her hair fall back down and asked;

"How does it look?"

"Breathtaking" William answered, his cobalt eyes burning into her green ones. For once he didn't turn away when he noticed she was looking at him, just kept staring at her with his remarkable eyes.

"Master William, I . . . ." William interrupted her.

"Please, don't call me Master William, it's what the servants call me and I do not wish you to think of yourself as my servant." The unexpected closeness to William brought out Buffy's bold side that had been lying dormant, since she had arrived in Victorian London.

"Then what would you prefer I think of you as?" William swallowed hard.

"A friend, I would like it very much if we could be friends." Buffy nodded, managing to tear her eyes from his.

"We already are friends, William" His voice took on the husky tone that Buffy remembered Spike using when he was about to say something he shouldn't.

"Better friends, I mean" Buffy gazed up at him through her lashes.

"William, will you tell me something?" The man nodded.

"Was it you that wrote me those poems?" The blush that had been fading from his cheeks appeared with a sudden fury and he looked down. Buffy put a finger under his chin and lifted his head until he was looking at her, so she could see the truth in his eyes.

"I already told you. . . . ."

"I know what you told me." Buffy cut him off, "But now I want the truth" William was silent for a moment, debating, then said;

"I wrote them."

"Why?" William's face blazed with incomprehension at her lack of understanding.

"I had to let it out somehow, how I felt, how I feel"

"And how do you feel?" The heat between the two was increasing with very passing second and Buffy had to use all of her willpower not to kiss him.

"Well, I feel like. . . ." he exhaled loudly.

"I think that I am in love with you, Miss Anne." Buffy's entire body thrilled at his words, she moved closer to him, wanting to be near him. He was babbling, ignoring her advances.

"I know that it's sudden, but I can't help it, you aren't like anyone I've ever met and I understand if you never want to see me again, but I just thought you should know." Buffy kissed him on the lips, harder than the first time in the library, crushing his lips under hers; she could feel the electricity flowing between them. She pulled away.

"I love you too William".


	11. Lost

Chapter eleven

Willow sat in the middle of her bedroom floor, dangling a crystal over a large map. Surrounded by numerous candles and sleeping Potentials. Dawn walked in and Willow jumped.

"Dawnie, hey, what's going on?"

"What are you doing? I thought we decided that you plus magic equaled a great big no, especially now that the First is getting antsy." Willow looked at the teenage girl guiltily.

"It's nothing big, just a locator spell. And I'm safe; I warded off any evil or malignant presences." The teenager's face softened as she realized what the Wicca was trying to do.

"Buffy?" Willow looked down at the map on her floor.

"Yeah, I just felt so bad about kicking her out earlier tonight and I just wanted to find her to make sure she was okay." Dawn crossed her arms over her chest, lowering her voice so as not to wake the sleeping Potentials and also, hopefully to mask the guilt in her tone.

"And, how is she?" Willow suddenly became engrossed in her map, refusing to look at Dawn.

"I can't find her." Dawn's voice went up, almost screaming.

"You what? What do you mean you can't find her?" Willow got to her feet quickly and went over to soothe the visibly distraught young girl.

"Dawn shh, you'll wake up the Potentials, let's go talk over here." Willow grabbed Dawn's elbow gently and steered her over into the hallway. There Dawn stood arms crossed, fury evident on her features. Willow paced for a moment, assembling her thoughts.

"Alright, you know how locator spells work, right?" At Dawn's small nod, the Witch continued,

"Okay, so when I tried doing it, it didn't work." Dawn interrupted Willow angrily.

"What do you mean it didn't work?"

"It didn't work. Instead of the crystal being attracted to her location, it didn't move anywhere"

"But that doesn't mean anything, maybe you did it wrong?" Willow shook her head remorsefully.

"I did it right Dawnie, she's gone." The brunette teenager could feel panic rising up inside of her. This was all her fault, if she hadn't kicked her out then maybe Buffy would still be here. All her life, the part created by the monks and the real part since then, Buffy had always protected her, made her feel safe and now, because of something she did, her sister was gone.

"Does that mean she's dead?" Willow was quick to reassure the distraught teen.

"No, if she was dead, the crystal would lead us to where . . . . . her body was. She's just missing."

"As in not in this dimension, missing?"

"Yeah" Dawn, shell shocked, leant against the wall for support.

"Look, Dawn, I'll find her, I mean I brought her back from the dead, I can do anything."

"Yeah, but look at how that turned out" Willow, slightly hurt, moved forwards to rest a hand on Dawn's shoulder, intending to comfort her but Dawn moved back quickly to avoid her. Willow looked at her, shocked. Dawn, unable to sort out all the thoughts in her mind and not particularly worried about Willow's feelings at the moment.

"Do what you can, we got her into this we should be able to get her out." Walking away from the surprised Wicca, Dawn walked into Buffy's bedroom. It was currently being used by Faith, in her new role as Head Slayer she had acquired all the lovely little perks Buffy used to enjoy. At the moment though, the room was empty, Faith probably gone on patrol and Dawn quickly crossed the room and crawled into the bed. She inhaled deeply, tasting her sister's sweet, cinnamon scent still in the air. Finally, all the thoughts and emotions that had been assaulting since Buffy had left, only a few hours before caught up with her and Dawn sobbed, the tears rolling down her cheeks.

Buffy stared at William from across the table, a small secret smile on her face. She allowed her foot to brush lightly against his and he looked up with a start. Once she felt his glacial eyes brush across her face, she lowered her eyes to her plate. She could practically feel him smiling at her. Her body thrilled as his foot brushed lightly against hers, but when she looked up, he was examining his chicken as if it was hiding a cache of diamonds, only the distinct reddening of his cheeks gave him away. It was December 28th, three days since Buffy and William had confessed their feelings for each other and all three of those days had been filled with uncertainty and secret meetings. William, ever the gentleman, had refused to do anything that challenged Buffy's virtue despite the clear wanting between them and Buffy was all but tearing her hair out about it. Now that they had finally spoken their piece, there seemed to be a bit of awkward energy between them. Buffy didn't regret telling him, she could never regret that. But Spike and now William, always seemed to know exactly how to get under her skin, annoy her to death but still manage to make her want him more than she ever wanted anything in her life. She loved him, she knew that in her heart but she didn't know what their future held. She had to let him become who he was supposed to be, had to let him be turned by Drusilla, had to let him turn into Spike, the merciless, murder Buffy knew so well and she knew doing it would break her heart in two, so she couldn't blame William completely for the awkwardness between them. Anne's voice broke through Buffy's fog of thoughts.

"William, I nearly forgot, Cecily Underwood is having a small New Year's Eve soiree and she invited you and Miss Anne." The red of William's cheek was quickly replaced by a ghastly pale that Buffy knew all to well from his Spike days. His knife and fork clattered to his plate.

"Pardon?" He choked out, attempting a futile effort to sound normal.

"Cecily Underwood is planning a New Year's Eve soiree"

"Yes, yes, I heard that but what do you mean, she's invited Miss Anne? She doesn't even know who she is." Anne chuckled weakly, the end of the chuckle trailing off into a weak cough. A flash of concern flitted across William's face but was quickly buried behind his odd curiosity.

"Oh, William, darling, do you honestly think that I would keep a treasure like this hidden?" For the first time since Buffy had arrived in this dimension, she found herself looking at a very angry William.

"Mother, dear." His words came out forced and deliberately sweet.

"Please tell me that you did not go bragging to your society friends about Miss Anne."

"Oh pumpkin, did you honestly think I wouldn't? We are extremely lucky to have a jewel like Miss Anne working for us, I couldn't very well not brag about her." William looked back to his plate, barely keeping his anger in.

"William, are you alright? You look a little green." William pushed back his chair and stood up abruptly.

"I'm fine, mother, I'm just not hungry, can I be excused?" Without waiting for an answer, William left the room. Anne shot Buffy a surprised look, this wasn't like meek, polite William.

"You go after him, he'll listen to you. He loves you after all" Buffy didn't have time to process Anne's comment before her worry for William overtook every other thought and she excused herself from the room. She found William just outside the dining room, leaning against the wall, with his head in his hands.

"William?" She said, laying her tiny hand on his shoulder. He jumped and she had to remind herself that human William couldn't process her Slayer speed like vampire Spike. She was shocked when she saw tears in his eyes. The last time she had seen him crying was when his newly-restored soul was driving him crazy and caused him to confess his sins to her in the church.

"William, what's the matter?" She gathered him into a hug and he folded into her chest, breathing heavily.

"I didn't want you to be exposed to them."

"Cecily?" Buffy was at a loss as to how to react to this suddenly emotional too-human William.

"All of them" William pulled back; angry flashing in his glacial blue eyes and Buffy realized that he wasn't crying out of sadness but unrestrained anger.

"They are animals, Anne, all of them, utter beasts. All they think about is how to make themselves look better and I know, I just know that they're going to hurt you and I don't want that, I never wanted that." Buffy reached out a hand and gently stroked William's shuddering shoulder.

"William, don't worry about me, I'm stronger then you think." She offered him a weak smile and he mirrored her action, wanting to please her despite his anger. He cocked his head and looked up at her through his eyelashes, the classic Spike look.

"I love you, Anne. That's the reason for all of this insanity, I love you." Buffy gathered him in another hug and kissed the top of his curly head. His actions were not what was accepted at the present age as normal, but Buffy had seen him a hell of a lot crazier and it made her realize that despite their differences, Spike and William were the same person.

"I know and don't worry, I'm a strong girl, and I can handle myself."


	12. The ball's the thing

Chapter twelve

Buffy worked a handkerchief between her fingers nervously as Becky laced her into her new ball gown. The Victorian Slayer noticed and smiled.

"Miss Anne, don't worry."

"I'm not worried." Buffy answered too quickly, panic nipping at her tone.

"Well, if that's so, then perhaps you might want to let go of that handkerchief before you turn it into a doily." Buffy glanced down at the almost destroyed piece of fabric in her hands and blushed slightly.

"You remind me of Master William when you do that." Buffy eye's wandered up to her predecessors and they glinted with curiosity. Becky elaborated;

"When you blush, it looks like when Master William does it. You've been spending too much time with him." Buffy looked back down, attempting to focus on her breathing that always became erratic whenever someone mentioned William, which might not have been the best thing, considering the whalebone contraption constricting her airflow.

"He loves you, you know?" Becky continued and Buffy smiled indulgently

"I know."

"I know that you think you know, but you haven't known Master William for as long as I have, he has never felt this strongly about anyone ever, not even Mistress Cecily. I think he might even propose." Something clicked in the blonde Slayer's mind.

"William was in love with Cecily?" It made sense now, his over-reaction to the party invitation. He wasn't worried about her meeting his 'friends'; he was worried about her meeting his former flame, or was it his former flame? Maybe he still had feelings for her.

"Not love, more like infatuation, he was besotted with her, he's in love with you." Buffy eye's traced the patterns of the carpet when another part of what Becky had said clicked into place.

"Propose?" Becky finished with Buffy's dress and surveyed her with a pleased expression on her face.

"Yes, ma'am, and looking the way you do tonight, I wouldn't be surprised if half of the male population in London proposes to you too."

William strode across the foyer's marble floor, his heels clicking against the stone. His fingers folded and re-folded the paper in his hands, the small box in his breast pocket created a comforting warmth but still he was overtaken with anxiety. All emotions other than awe and unrestrainable love fled him as soon as he spotted Buffy on the stairs. She was dressed in a gown of deepest forest green, her hair pulled up only halfway, a good section spilling over her bare shoulders. The deep color of the dress offset her eyes remarkably, creating the illusions of emeralds set in her porcelain face. Her white gloves reached up past her elbows and she wore the barest amount of makeup, a touch of lip color, and eye powder. William felt his breath catch in his chest at the sight of her and he was suddenly overwhelmed with the sensation of light-headiness and leant against the wall for support. Not willing to faint, to blink for even a second for fear that this vision of unbearable beauty would disappear from his sight forever. She descended the stairs quickly, noticing his weakness. She laid a gloved hand on his arm gently.

"William, are you alright?"

"Oh yes, just a dizzy spell, I'll be alright." Doubt and protectiveness clouded her emerald eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Of course, don't concern yourself with me." He straightened and offered her his arm which she took with a small smile. They moved across the foyer but were stopped by Anne's weak voice crying out to them.

"Oh, wait, please wait, let me see how you look" The couple turned to face the old woman, and Buffy felt a small twang of homesickness and loss. It was such a typical twenty-first century mom reaction, one her own mother had not been able to indulge in. Home-made, prom wrecking devil dogs and Buffy's Slayer duties had erased that possibility. Anne grinned widely.

"You both look lovely, the perfect couple." William blushed crimson; it was the first mention Anne had made towards William and Buffy's new relationship.

"Oh, come now, William, I'm your mother and I have eyes, do you honestly think I wouldn't notice all those goo-goo eyes you two have been shooting each other." She made small shooing gestures with her hands.

"Now go, before I have to kick you out."

Buffy sat in the corner of the large ballroom, bored to tears. The music was lame, the dancing was slow and plodding and her present company, William excluded, was probably the most stuck-up bunch of idiots she had ever seen in her life and she had been a _cheerleader!_ She had seen a better party at her Grandma Muriel's nursing home. William had been exceptionally nervous all night, unable to stop tapping his feet or drumming his fingers. Buffy gazed at him lovingly, trying to draw his attention to her, to get him to forget his nervousness but it was no use, he was staring the opposite way. Buffy had met Cecily, a pompous twit who obviously had never lifted a finger in her entire life and who looked exceptionally like Anya's demon friend Halfrek, not saying anything for the girl's looks. She was pleased to notice William hadn't spared Cecily a second glance, focusing instead on something in his breast pocket. Now, a large arrogant male voice burst through Buffy's mind, jolting her out of her thoughts. It was a 'friend' of William's, Charles or Edward or something, the man had seemed more interested in Buffy's cleavage then her face and Buffy had written him off as another one of the idiots that seemed to populate London's social scene. Now, the man was winding his way through the crowd towards Buffy and William, obviously drunk and booming out his words.

"Ladies and gentlemen, if you would direct your attention to the spectacular grandfather clock provided by our hosts, you would notice that it is almost midnight. Now, the Americans have a tradition of kissing each other on the stroke of midnight, now, we Brits are a little more refined than that, don't you think?" The crowd in front of him roared its approval and Charles/Edward/Whatever turned on his heel to face Buffy, pretending to have noticed her for the first time.

"Oh, what would we have here? A true, blue Yankee. Well, we shouldn't deny her the pleasure of a centuries-old tradition, now, should we?" Again the crowd roared its approval and the man swept Buffy to her feet and planted a large slobbery kiss directly on Buffy's lips. Horrified, Buffy pushed him away from her and the animal laughed in pleasure.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Buffy hissed. The man roared with laughter and Buffy was tempted to punch him in the nose. William was at Buffy's side in a moment, bristling with anger.

"What? You'll do it for money?" Charles/Edward reached into his pocket and dropped a few coins at Buffy's feet. William clenched his teeth at the display.

"What are you prattling on about Charles?" Charles was still laughing and his face was turning red with the effort.

"Oh, please, William, don't deny it anymore. We all know the only way you could get a woman is if you paid for her" Buffy's mouth dropped open and she could feel William tensing for a fight next to her.

"Are you calling me a whore?"

"That I am, mistress, so what do you say to a roll in the hay? What's your going rate?" Before William could react, Buffy reared back and punched the pompous pig in the nose.

"I am not a prostitute" she seethed. Charles raised a hand to his nose and seemed surprised to find blood there. He turned back to his eager crowd.

"Well, what do you know? William's Yankee whore has an anger problem and a wicked arm." Buffy fled the room, not seeing William's spectacular right hook to Charles's jaw.


	13. I can't

Chapter thirteen

Buffy fled from the mansion, tears streaming uninterrupted over her cheeks. She felt a swath of her dress rip off but she kept running until she reached a small marble bench. The Slayer collapsed onto it, her chest heaving painfully. After only a few seconds, she could hear quick, worried footsteps hurrying through the garden towards her and William burst through the branches, hair full of brambles and twigs. His fine clothes were just as ripped as her own. He was oblivious to all except her obvious distress.

"Anne" he said, rushing towards her and embracing her tightly before kneeling in front of her.

"I'm so sorry, I knew something like this would happen, I shouldn't have brought you here." He cursed under his breath and Buffy smiled through her tears.

"I'm fine, William, don't worry." William suddenly began fiddling with something in his breast pocket.

"No, you aren't, you're upset. I know this might come as a bit of a shock, that it's a little too sudden but I just couldn't keep it a secret any longer." Finally, from his pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper and a jewelry box. _A ring box, _Buffy realized with a shock. William gingerly shifted to one knee and cracked open the box for Buffy's inspection. Buffy gasped, the ring was beautiful. An emerald set among three diamonds on a gold band, it matched her dress and eyes perfectly. Buffy suddenly realized what was happening, William was proposing to her. William began to recite something from the paper but Buffy was too caught up in her own thoughts to truly pay attention. William was _proposing_She could get married and have children. Her heart ached as the last thought passed through her mind. _Children_, something her Slayer duties in her own time prevented her from having. The looming threat of omni- present death erased that possibility and neither Angel nor Spike were able to have children in the future. She could be happy for once. But what would happen to her time if she never returned? The tail-end of William's speech caught her ear.

"Your beauty, effulgent." The word struck a chord in Buffy's mind for a reason she couldn't understand. It wasn't a common name but oddly familiar. Her eyes widened as she realized where she had heard it before. When Spike had been hidden away in the school basement with the First plaguing him, driving him insane, she had gone down to sit with him during her breaks. Sometimes he was so far gone into a delusion that he didn't even realize she was there. One such time, he had been reliving the night he was turned, complete with the poem he had written for his lady love. This speech wasn't supposed to be for her, it was meant for Cecily. Fresh tears spilled over onto her cheeks as a cold stab of understanding pierced her heart. Drusilla would turn him tonight and Buffy had to let her. _No, no, please, no, give us a few more days together, don't take him now, please, no, _Buffy pleaded silently but to no avail. She knew what she had to do.

"Will you marry me, Anne Summers?" Buffy looked down, unable to look into his probing, hopeful eyes.

"I can't" she whispered finally.

"What do you mean? Of course you can." His tone was choked with panic and Buffy closed her eyes, tears leaking out from, wishing she could shut out his pain, the pain she was causing.

"No, I can't, William, this relationship was never anything serious. It was just for fun, a way to pass the time."

"But you said that you loved me" William's voice cracked just like Buffy's heart.

"I say a lot of things"

"You're lying; this is a joke, a prank." Buffy shook her head sadly.

"I'm not lying, not this time." William took a hold Buffy's chin, forcing her to look into his glacial blue eyes. Those eyes that always bored into her soul, made her think, made her feel. She could feel her will slipping away.

"Look into my eyes and say you don't love me." Buffy knew with a stab of comprehension what she had to say, she had said it once before, when she had broken his heart the first time, the second time was bound to be easier, wasn't it? Yeah right. She stared into his eyes, calling upon her best actress charade.

"I could never love you, William, you're beneath me." William got to his feet, tears streaking his face, a broken man.

"Good to know how you truly feel" he said, before fleeing the garden and Buffy collapsed into tears. Sobs racked her thin frame, pain flooding every nerve ending in her brain. After countless minutes of sobbing, Buffy realized suddenly that hard marble beneath her cheek had disappeared, replaced with cheap fabric. She sat up and realized suddenly that she could breathe. She didn't need to use her Slayer eyesight to see that she wasn't in a garden in Victorian London; she was back in her borrowed bed in present-day Sunnydale. She glanced over at the digital display clock on the bed-side night-table. It had the date as well as the hour. 10:30 pm, the night after she had been kicked out of her home. Buffy was dumbstruck at the fact that she had been in Victorian London for almost two months and not even two days had passed in Sunnydale. Buffy lay back down, she was too numb to ponder the intricacies of the universe and she had a lot of things to think about already.

The inhuman roar of fury filled the vineyard's storage chamber, causing several large chunks of plaster to fall from the walls and ceiling. The First changed shapes rapidly, attempting to find a shell able to contain its rage. Caleb stood back, surveying the spectacle with a cool eye. The First finally settled on Angel for the moment and roared into the face of its captive.

"Why is she back? I thought you took care of her." The beyond terrified boy could only cower in fear as he tried to answer.

"I thought I did too. I don't know how she came back. My spell was foolproof. She was supposed to be stuck there, forever." Angel/ the First whirled around to face its prisoner, turning into Darla as it went.

"Well, apparently it wasn't fool-proof, now was it?" The boy hung his head and the First noticed a change in his demeanor. It moved closer to him, malevolent anger in every move.

"What is it?"

"There's something, but it's impossible."

"Well, we've pretty much decided that nothing is impossible when it comes to the Slayer."

"As you know, when someone is sent to a different dimension, it's almost impossible for them not to do something that will alter its basic structure. I mean this is something that isn't supposed to be there, an interloper but if somehow the Slayer managed to keep her particular dimension intact then the universe would realize it didn't need her there and boot her back to her own dimension." Darla's face contorted in rage and for an instant it was impossible to tell if she was in Vamp-face or not.

"You hung all of our hopes on a flawed plan?"

"I'm sorry, I don't understand how this could have happened, the Slayer is a powerful being and even if she wasn't. . . . . . I'm really sorry." The boy hung his head in shame. Darla/ the First was unable to put up with his groveling and turned on her/Its heel, and stomped over to Caleb.

"Kill him" she snarled, morphing into Drusilla. "Kill him for Princess, make the wine come out and spill into my cup. I need that cup, because what's a good hostess without a cup to toast with?" She leaned in closer to Caleb and whispered in his ear,

"We're going to have a party with the Slayer's girls as party favors and a big surprise for the door prize" Drusilla clapped her hands in joy and stood back to watch her minion do her bidding.


	14. Broken and fixed

Chapter fourteen

Willow flew into Dawn's room, a map fluttering in her hand.

"Dawnie, she's back" Dawn jumped to her feet to face the redheaded Wicca.

"What?"

"She's back, Buffy's back." Dawn forgot her earlier anger at the Wicca and hugged her tightly.

"Where is she?"

"I don't know" Willow admitted and at Dawn's look of alarm, she elaborated.

"No, she's fine; her signal is just too weak to pinpoint her exact location." The teenager couldn't hide her sigh of relief.

"So, she's okay?"

"Perfectly fine"

A knock brought Buffy out of her half-sleep. She ignored it, hoping whoever was on the other side of the door would take the hint and leave. No such luck, her visitor knocked once more before entering. Her Slayer senses tingled and she instinctively knew who it was. He always affected her differently than any other vamp, even Angel. She had always pondered the reason behind it and now she knew, they had a history. He stood in the doorway, moonlight from a nearby window reflecting off of his brilliant white-blonde hair and she was struck by the sight of him. He didn't look or act like William, that was for sure, but the same blatant, never-ending love was there in his cobalt eyes.

"There you are," he said. "Do you realize I could just walk in here, no invite needed? This town really is theirs now, isn't it?" He strode quickly over to Buffy, his worry for her crushing out his omni-present need to be cool.

"I heard. I was over there. That bitch, she's all about smiles and reformation when you're on your feet, but the moment you're down, she's all about the kicking, isn't that right? Makes me want –" Buffy was too tired to argue, to tired to do anything but think about the life she could've had, the life she had, where no one wanted her. _That's not true, _a little voice piped up in the back of her mind, _Spike wants you. _The little tidbit of truth gave her strength enough to answer.

"It wasn't just Faith, it was all of them. And it's not like they were wrong" She couldn't look at him, not knowing the pain she had caused him.

"Please leave" she whispered. A small, excited smile creased Spike's face.

"No, this'll change your tune. I came here 'cause I got something to tell you; you were right, Caleb is trying to protect something from you and I think you were spot on all the way, I think it's at the vineyard." His smile faltered as she failed to respond to the small gift he was offering her.

"So? You were right." Another small pause and the smile was gone completely.

"Buffy?"

"I don't feel very right" The Slayer answered simply, wanting to laugh at the inadequacy of her statement when compared to all that she had been through lately. Spike moved closer to her and a wave of guilt swamped over her. He still loved her, still wanted to help her, despite everything she had ever done to him, in this lifetime and the one before it.

"You're not fooling me" Buffy turned her head slightly to gaze at him in confusion.

"What do you even mean?"

"Well, you're not a quitter" The enthusiasm in his voice was exhausting her and she turned her head away from him.

"Watch me" Spike was desperate now to convince her that she was needed; she was wanted, at least by him.

"You were their leader and you still are. This isn't something you gave up, it's something they took. Buffy turned her head to look at him once again.

"And the difference is?" Spike smirked his patented Spike smirk

"We can take it back"

The First, now dressed in its Buffy guise paced in front of Caleb.

"What do we do now for the Slayer situation? We can't just leave things as it is. We put too much stock in that stupid boy." She punched the wall, and her hand, of course, went through the wall.

"I think you should go see the other Slayer, Faith, try and turn her against Buffy." The First smiled, a truly hideous evil smirk.

"You're right, and I know just who to go as."

Buffy had somehow found the strength to sit up and was surveying an obviously confused Spike.

"No?" he asked, his brow creased in bewilderment.

"No" Buffy repeated.

"You mean no as in eventually?" He was not backing down and it was sapping Buffy's energy.

"You really have a problem with that word, don't you?" Spike placed his hands on his hips and paced a little, wondering what had happened to his strong, never broken Slayer.

"You can get them back"

"Can? Maybe, Should?" Buffy buried her head in her hands, using all her will to stay awake.

"I'm just so tired" Spike needed to bring his Slayer back, not be contented with this weak facsimile of her.

"They need you"

"Well, I. . . ." Buffy gave the slightest indication of cheering up and Spike jumped on his opportunity.

"It's bloody chaos over there without you" Buffy took her head out of her hands and looked at an extremely desperate Spike.

"Yeah!" he said, biting the inside of his lip, and Buffy knew immediately that he was lying.

"Yeah, it's uh. . . There's junk. . . You know? Food cartons, sleeping bags not rolled up, everyone's very scared and, uh, unkempt" Buffy smirked, touched by his failed effort.

"Sounds dire" Spike sighed in defeat and sat down next to Buffy on the bed. Buffy was suddenly hyper-aware of his nearness.

"I didn't see a lot." He admitted.

"I came, hit Faith a bunch of times and left." This time there was no mistaking the lift in Buffy's spirit.

"Really? I mean, not that I'm glad, but. . ."

"Oh, you say the word, and she's a footnote in history. I'll make it look like a painful accident." Buffy's mood darkened once again.

"That's my problem, I say the word, some girl dies . . . every time"

"There's always casualties in war." He needed to keep her spirits afloat, but he was getting a little desperate. Buffy snorted in disgust.

"Casualties. It just sounds so . . . casual. These are girls that I got killed. I cut myself off from them . . . all of them. I knew I was going to lose some of them . ." Buffy's anger at herself caused a wave of strength to pass through her and she got to her feet, unable to sit any longer.

"You know what? I'm still making excuses. I've always cut myself off. I've always—being the Slayer made me different. But it's my fault I stayed that way. People are always trying to connect to me, and I just slip away, you should know" Spike smirked again, one full of secret trysts and unforgettable moments.

"I seem to recall a certain amount of connecting." Buffy shook her head, clearing it of their stolen, shared moments. She needed to make him leave; she wasn't sure how much longer she could hold out without bursting into tears.

"Oh, please! We were never close. You just wanted me because I was . . . unattainable"

"You think that's all that was?" Spike's brow creased with anger and he stood up next to Buffy. Buffy couldn't be near him with out the wave of guilt washing over her again so she sat down.

"Please, let's not go over the past."

"Oh, no, no. Let's hold on here. I've hummed along to your pity ditty and I think I should have the mic for a bit." Buffy gestured weakly and gave a feeble smile.

"Fine, the stage is yours, cheer me up." Spike paced for a minute before answering.

"You're insufferable."

"Thank you that really helped."

"I'm not trying to cheer you up."

"Then what are you trying to say?" Buffy snapped.

"I don't know" Spike snapped back,

"I'll know when I'm done saying it. Something pissed me off, and I just – 'Unattainable'. That's it." Buffy sighed.

"Fine, I'm attainable, I'm attainable, I'm an attain-a-thon. May I please go to sleep?" Spike kneeled in front of Buffy, focused only on fixing her, whatever needed to be done.

"You listen to me. I've been alive a bit longer than you, and dead a lot longer than that. I've seen things you couldn't imagine, and done things I'd prefer you didn't. I don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong bloody calls." His cobalt eyes seared into her, daring her to turn away, to block out his words, but she couldn't, all she could do was sit and listen as the man who had loved her for over a hundred years spilled his heart, his soul.

"A 100+ years and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of: you." Buffy looked away now, seeing the pain in his eyes. He laid a cool hand on her cheek and gently turned her face back towards him.

"Hey, look at me. I'm not asking you for anything. When I say, "I love you," it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me." Buffy could feel a lone, cold tear wind its way down her cheek but she didn't move to wipe it away, transfixed by his words.

"I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy." She couldn't do this, couldn't hurt him, not again.

"I don't wanna be the one." She whispered and Spike smiled quickly to hide the pain in his eyes.

"I don't wanna be this good looking and athletic. We all have crosses to bear." Buffy chuckled weakly and Spike got to his feet.

"You get some rest now. I'll check in before first light. You can decide how you want..." He was nearly gone and Buffy was hit with the sudden, unbearable need for him to stay. She couldn't lose him, not again.

"Spike?" He turned to face her, forbidden hope written all over his face. "Could you...stay here?" Spike swallowed, not willing to believe.

"Sure" he turned his attention to a nearby Lazy-boy recliner, not wanting to scare her off by jumping into her bed that was what had scared her off the first time.

"That diabolical old torture device, the comfy chair. It'll do me fine." Removing his jacket, he tossed it on the chair.

"No, I mean...here." Buffy whispered, gently touching the bed next to her, tears shining brightly in her eyes.

"Will you just hold me?" She moved over to give him space and he slid into bed next to her. There were no more words just then, everything that needed to be said at that moment was said, now it was just about the feeling of Buffy in Spike's arms, the all too familiar surge of love he felt whenever he was near her and the incredible feeling of rightness in this position. Buffy laid her head gently on Spike's chest and he wrapped a protective arm around her, laying a hand on her head. _Sleep now, luv, _he said silently, _sleep, I'll protect you, don't worry about anything._

A/N: I know this seems like the end, but I still got stuff to say. I know, I know, give me the slightest bit of attention and I hog it all. So to all my loyal reviewers and readers, stick with me just a little bit longer, I promise it'll be worth it. 


	15. In sleep there is truth

Chapter fifteen

Buffy turned in Spike's arms, pressing her body closer to his, wanting to prove to herself that he was really there. She laid a hand against his chest and felt a small bump, exploring with her fingers, she realized that it was a ring on a chain.

"It's yours you know" Came Spike's voice, Buffy was about to answer when she realized that he thought she was asleep, so she kept quiet, listening as he spilt this new facet of his soul.

"The ring I gave you when you told me that you could never love me, that I was beneath you." Buffy's brow creased in confusion, he had never given her a ring.

"I've known all along, who you were. I could never quite figure it out. How you could be there and here at the same time, but after spending time with you, I realized nothing was impossible." Buffy tried to quell the suddenly frantic beating of her heart. _He remembered me, he knew, everything. _

"You tore my heart out that was the only reason I went running into Drusilla's arms. The only reason I could ever stay with that whack-job for so many years was because I was convinced that if I ever left her, no one would ever love me again." He laughed coldly, full of self-disgust.

"Pretty pathetic, don't you think? One woman has the power to hold sway over my entire century alive, but then again, you were never like anyone else." Spike began gingerly running his fingertips over Buffy's arm and Buffy marveled at the innocence and affection behind the action, despite the self-loathing laced in every word.

"I just, I hated you for what you did to me, you made me weak, turned me into something every vampire hates. You made me feel, made me love. That's why I was always so vicious towards you; I couldn't function, knowing that you were prancing around, happy, alive while I was still suffering from what you did to me." Spike tightened his arms around Buffy, perhaps intending to prove to himself that she was real, that she was in his arms.

"But I realized I couldn't hide from you, from how I felt. I love you, I always have, and I always will. I'll do anything for you, Buffy" Buffy's heart broke for the former poet clutching her in his arms; this man had been through more than anyone should ever go through, but he made it through, for her. Several moments passed, it could've been seconds, it could've been minutes, Buffy couldn't tell, but she knew what she had to do.

"I love you, Spike" Buffy whispered. When Spike didn't answer, Buffy chanced a look upwards at him. His cobalt eyes were shut, his sharp features softened by sleep. Carefully, the petite blonde Slayer traced his defined cheekbones with a shaking finger.

"I love you"

T.B.C 


	16. No more hiding

**Alrighty, so here is the latest chapter. This is mostly dialogue taken from transcripts of episode 21, but please stay with me and read it; I think there are some pretty good thoughts going on behind what's being said. Stick with me a little longer, I wrapping it up soon, I promise.**

Descending the stairs of her home, Buffy trailed a hand down the banister. Her fingers traced every scar and mark in the wood. The banister and the whole staircase had been replaced and repaired so many times that Buffy wasn't even sure which part of the staircase was part of the original design. The scythe in her other hand was a comforting weight, her small guarantee that not all the odds were against her. The door in front of her opened and she felt sudden tears prick her eyes. She knew who was there, could feel the sudden rush of emotions swell up inside her; happiness, fear, embarrassment, self-loathing and the constant sweetly bitter tinge she had to recognize as love. She waited until the tears retreated before she could look up at him. He was gazing at her, the ever present veil of love and worry for her all but hiding the pain buried deep inside his cerulean eyes, her abrupt departure earlier that morning had added to the gallery of scars, both physical and emotional that she had caused him over the course of a century. He cocked his head to the side, allowing the cool, disconcerted disguise of Spike to wash over his features; it was like a second skin to him, his armor against the near constant pain heaped onto him during his over long life.

"Honey, you're home" he said, the sarcasm built into his carefully cultivated brass accent, so unlike William's. For lack of anything better to say, Buffy simply remarked;

"Yeah" Spike sighed, obviously attempting to keep the conversation going so that his Slayer wouldn't disappear on him again.

"And you did it, fulfilled your mission. Found the Holy Grail or the Holy Hand Grenade, or whatever the hell that thing is." Buffy forced an easy camaraderie into her voice, willing herself to stay calm

"Right now, we're going with scythe, you like?" She raised the scythe slightly to allow him an inspection of their newest weapon.

"Well, pointy and wooden isn't exactly the look I want to know better, but it does have its flair. Can see why a girl would ditch a fellow for one of these" The hesitancy in his voice made it clear; this was the reason he had come back, he wanted to know why she had abandoned him once again.

"I'm sorry about that" Buffy said, walking away towards the kitchen, unable to face the pain in his eyes. Spike followed, a stubborn bugger, as usual.

"It doesn't matter, you're back in the bosom, all's forgiven and uh," Standing in front of Buffy, he forced her to look at him, attempting to convince her of a lie he desperately wished he didn't need to say.

"Last night . . . was just a glitch. A bit of cold comfort from a cellar dweller, let's don't make a thing out of it." He huffed in several unneeded nervous breaths. Buffy stared at him, unwilling to believe what she was hearing. His glacial eyes gave no sign of anything warmer hiding under their surface. _Its only fair_, she tried to convince herself, _I can only knock him around some many times before he comes to his senses and realizes he's too good for me._ Hiding the pain ripping a new tear in her never mended heart, she said brusquely:

"Great, I have work to do"

"Oh, yeah, another solo mission, of course." Despite his words, Spike still wanted to keep Buffy with him for as long as he possibly could before she left him again.

"Yeah, it is" Realizing his eagerness, Spike settled into his old routine of barely concealed rivalry with the Slayer, if she couldn't love him, at least she could hate him, the two emotions both springing from the heart.

"That's fine; you don't have to get all shirty about it." A flash of indignation slid over Buffy's face; sometimes he was too British for his own good.

"I'm not shirty, what is shirty? That's not even a word" Spike conceded to her, having difficulty in finding the energy to keep up their usual mindless banter, all he wanted to do was sleep, and dream that in some alternate universe he still held Buffy in his arms.

"Alright, alright, big secret mission, it's fine" Buffy apparently didn't want to give up so fast.

"It's not a secret, well, I mean it is, but that's the point of the mission, find out the secret. This thing was forged by- I don't even know, something about . . . a tomb on unconsecrated ground. That's what I have to do; I need to find out what this is and why I have it." Despite his better judgment, Spike's curiosity was piqued.

"And that's the thing the preacher man was so anxious to keep out of your mitts?"

"That it is"

"Well, maybe I'll swing by the vineyard when you go, make sure he's sitting tight."

"Great" Buffy said, realizing their conversation was coming to an end, Spike wanted to leave, he deserved to leave.

"Ok" Spike turned his back on her and walked towards the back door. Spurred on by a sudden need to stay with him, Buffy ran after him. _Say something, _she urged herself mentally, _anything, just say something to make him stay._

"You're a dope" _Brilliant move, Buffy, always were a genius, insult him, that's sure to get you in his bed. _Spike, apparently was thinking the same thing.

"I'm a what?" Buffy forced her chin up in a feeble attempt at looking strong.

"You're a dope, and a bone head, and you're shirty." Spike stared at the petite blonde Slayer as if she had grown a second head.

"Have you gone completely carrot-top?" Buffy hefted the scythe so Spike could see it and her mouth seemed to take over from her brain, spewing her inner most thoughts as she was wont to do

"Do you see this? This may actually help me fight my war, this might be the key to everything, and the reason I'm holding it is because of you, because of the strength that you gave me last night. Look, I'm tired of defensiveness and weird, mixed signals, you know, I have Faith for that. Let's just get to truth here, ok? I don't know how you felt about last night but I will not . . ." Spike once more took in a large unneeded breath, the small human gesture convincing him he was man enough to tell the woman he loved the truth.

"Terrified" Buffy's voice softened immediately, it was all coming, after all the years of hiding, they could finally get to the truth about something.

"Of what?" The bleached blonde vampire let out the breath he was holding.

"Last night was. . ." Spike gazed up at the ceiling suddenly, as if the answers to his problems were etched into Buffy's kitchen ceiling.

"God, I'm such a jerk, I can't do this" Buffy's tone was soothing, gentle.

"Spike. . ."

"It was the best night of my life" His eyes hardened, a side affect of being abused by the woman he was crazy enough to love.

"If you poke fun at me, you bloody well better use that, cause I couldn't bear it. It may not mean that much to you but. . ."

"I just told you it did" Spike sighed once more, hating that Buffy could turn him into such a weak, sentimental fool, she was worth it, always worth it.

"Yeah, I hear you say it, but. . ." His tone changed into one that spoke of immeasurable time spent living the same tired old life.

"I've lived for soddin' ever, Buffy, I've done everything, I've done things with you I can't spell, but I've never been close, to anyone, least of all you. Till last night," A slow, secretive smile crept onto his face, remembering how it felt to have her warm, silken skin cocooned in his arms.

"All I did was hold you, watch you sleep, and it was the best night of my life. So, yeah, I'm . . . terrified"

"You don't have to be" Spike cocked his head so he could look at her better

"Were you there with me?" Buffy immediately understand what he meant. Too many times when they were together, Buffy had pretended that Spike wasn't even there, that he was just a toy to satisfy her lust. Buffy cocked her head slightly, to match his gaze

"I was" The vampire could not hide the excitement from creeping into his voice

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know, does it have to mean anything?" The spell that had befallen them broke slightly, allowing Spike to gather his disguise of the Big Bad once again.

"No, not right now"

"Maybe when. . ." Spike threw up a hand to stop her

"No, let's just leave it."

"Ok" Buffy could think of nothing better to say. Spike allowed his disguise to slip, albeit slightly and said:

"We'll go be heroes" Once again carefully ensconced in his armor, Spike left the room before Buffy could weaken him any further.


	17. Fighting it does a brain good

Alright, I know I haven't written in forever, and that this is too short for a lot of you guys but I had some serious writer's block and this is all I could come up with right now, no fear though, I will update soon. I have an ending in mind; I just need to figure out how to segue into it. I shall not disclose any further information as I am evil and like to cause you pain, no, I'm just kidding. . . . Maybe. 

Buffy walked home from the temple, and from Angel.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid. I'm such an idiot" she said to herself, hitting her forehead with the palm of her hand. She had done it again, hurt Spike, it didn't matter if he would never know about it, she would. She loved Angel and always would, but Spike was . . . . Different, not better or worse, he was just Spike, always just Spike and Angel could never be him, but neither could Spike be Angel.

"My God, I think I'm going crazy" Placing the scythe down next to her, she sat on the curb and put her head in her hands. Angel always did this to her, made her crazy, made her confused.

"Stupid vampires" she muttered.

"Excuse me?" asked a voice, Buffy looked up. There was a vampire standing right in front of her, newly risen, judging by the dirt on his suit.

"Can you help me?" Buffy got to her feet clutching the scythe in her right hand.

"Why not? I've done everything else today; why not help one of the legions of the undead?"

"I think that. . . .Oh God, you're gonna think I'm crazy"

"Hey, I was just sitting on a curb, holding a scythe, talking to myself, I think it's safe to safe to say I won't think you're crazy" The vampire toed the gravel in the street nervously.

"Yeah, okay, well, I think that I'm a ghost" He looked up at Buffy almost hopefully, and Buffy had to restrain herself from laughing.

"Look. . . . What's your name?"

"David"

"Look, David, I'm sorry to break the news to you like this but you're not a ghost, sorry" The vampire looked back down at his feet.

"Oh" Buffy advanced on him a little bit, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Are you disappointed?"

"A little" David admitted, "I mean, I woke up in like complete darkness and my first thought was; 'Okay, so this is the afterlife'. But then I realized I could still move and stuff, so I just pushed against the ceiling and it just sort of popped open" _Great, _Buffy thought, _Now Sunnydale's workers are just leaving the corpses around without burying them._

"So, I started to walk around, you know, to see if anyone could help me, and there weren't that many people around, but the ones I did see just looked at me and ran away screaming"

"David, I'm really sorry, but you aren't a ghost, you're a vampire" Confusion creased David's already furrowed brow.

"A vampire? So thatmeans I can't haunt anybody?"

"Afraid not, but you can fight" Both looked down at the ground and Buffy had a flash of inspiration.

"Do you want to?" Minutes later, both were locked in a duel to the death, Buffy hit David in the jaw and sent him flying, as she ran after him, she said;

"David, you're a guy right?" Picking the vamp up off the ground, she kneed him firmly in the groin. He fell to his knees clutching himself, and replied in a voice that was a few octaves too high.

"Not too sure anymore" Buffy twirled into a roundhouse kick which forced his head to the side and he once again collapsed to the ground.

"Can I ask you something?" The new vamp finally got to his feet and compensated for his folly by punching Buffy soundly in the stomach. He seemed so jubilant at his success that Buffy was able to punch him in the jaw.

"Sure" he said, rubbing his jaw and flailing wildly with his legs, attempting to kick her.

"Do guys ever say what they mean?" Finally, one of David's random bursts of kicking connected with Buffy's side and she stumbled. He advanced on the Slayer, the vampire bloodlust shining in his eyes.

"Of course not, that would ruin the fun" Buffy flipped up to her and kicked David in the jaw. He sprawled on the floor.

"What fun? The fun of making us run around like love-sick puppies, chasing after you guys while playing hot and cold every two seconds?" David flashed Buffy a confused look and she brought her foot down on his abdomen, forcing whatever air he had left in his lungs out of him.

"Of course not" he said, huffing for a minute before realizing that he no longer needed to breathe.

"The fun of being mysterious, you girls have the looks and the sexual persuasion, we need the mystery to add a bit of allure"

"Oh" Buffy said, before the new vamp could take advantage of her momentary pause, she swooped down and plunged her stake into his heart and he burst into dust.

"Thanks David, you've helped a lot". Dusting herself, she began the trek back home. She had to see a certain bleached blonde vampire.


	18. Guardian angel

The day of the final battle dawned bright and clear and Buffy, watching the rising dawn from the window of her basement couldn't help but think that the sun seemed tinged with the slightest hint of red, of blood. Close by, Spike rolled over in his sleep and grunted as he woke up. Immediately he looked around to find Buffy and found her staring out the window, arms crossed, an expression of purest meditation on her face and he fell in love with her all over again. It was impossible, looking at her, all of her scars, both emotional and physical mingling with her perfection, not to love her. He cleared his throat, and she turned to him, a slightly dazed look on her face.

"I need to call a meeting, two actually, one with just the Scoobies, and Faith and then one for all the Potentials" Spike cocked his head and examined her,

"Buffy, are you alright?"

"I don't yet, ask me again when we win"

All the makeshift warriors filed from the house on Revello Drive, still trying to digest Buffy's announcement. Spike held back, holding his coat over his head, preparing to run for the bus they had commandeered from the high school, it was the only thing big enough to carry all of them. Spike gathered up an unneeded breath, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

"Buffy, love, what is it?"

"I wanted to thank you"

"For what? You're the one that came up with this plan, bloody brilliant plan at that." Buffy shook her head a little, eager to make her point, eager to make him see.

"Not that, Spike, without you these last few days I don't know how I could've made it, I wanted to thank you for being there for me when I needed you"

"Buffy, pet, I've always been there, even when you didn't need me, and I always will, you don't need to thank me for that."

"I don't want you to think you have to be my bodyguard" Spike shook his head, grinning slyly.

"I'm not, I'm like your, I guess you could say, I'm your guardian angel" Buffy laughed,

"Yeah, the guardian angel of pissing me off" Spike's laugh mingled in with hers and Buffy marveled at the sound of it, these two battle weary warriors sharing a moment of mirth. Spike's expression sobered and he looked at Buffy, suddenly serious.

"Buffy, I just want you to know that I love you, I know I've said it enough but I don't know if you really understand it"

"I don't know if I can understand it, Spike, I mean, it's me"

"I know, Buffy, that's why you have to understand." He shook his head,

"That's beside the point though, I just want you to know that if anything happens today, I won't be giving anything up, won't be sacrificing anything, I'll be protecting you." Buffy's forehead creased in confusion.

"Spike, what are you talking about?" The bleached blonde vampire just stared at her, his eternal cocky smile permanently affixed to his face. He swooped in low and brushed his lips ever so softly against Buffy's. A chill ran down her spine, not from the cold of his lips but of the unspoken finality of every moment they shared. She wanted his lips against hers forever but there was some sort of barrier between them, some sort of promise between Life and Death that was blocking the way. He pulled away, the smile still on his face, although slightly mellowed with sorrow.

"I just have a feeling"

Buffy gathered her troops around her and handed out their instructions, their death sentences. They split up to go their separate ways, and Buffy was left with Willow, Giles and Xander, the core group, the Fantastic Four as Xander had once called them. She stared at her oldest friends and wondered how she could have ever considered abandoning them for the past. She loved them, loved them all, for always, no matter what happened, she couldn't help herself, they had been through too much not to. They exchanged jokes like they usually did before a big battle, but Buffy felt hollow inside, there would be death today, much death, perhaps even her own final death, but she was ready, enough practicing, she was ready for the final curtain. Like Spike had said, she wasn't sacrificing anything, she was protecting the world. One by one her friends moved off to their respective positions, preparing themselves for the imminent death, whether theirs or the enemies, she didn't know if they knew, she didn't, but she did know that they didn't care. She knew better then anyone that at the end, nothing mattered anymore, only that you did right and these people were doing the ultimate right, they were saving the world, again. Entering the basement room where the seal was once again unearthed, Buffy passed Spike, he gave her hand one final squeeze, one final burst of strength and she was ready. She, Faith and the Potentials opened the seal with their potent blood and one by one filed down into the underground cavern the open seal revealed. Buffy took her place among her warriors, her friends, she was ready.

Willow's spell had worked; the aura of strength surrounding the various Slayers locked in a death duel was almost a living thing, moving, guiding the movements of the new Slayers. As Buffy surveyed the multitude of mini battles around her, trying to find somewhere to jump in, she heard a pain choked voice scream her name, _his _voice scream her name. Buffy rushed to the source of the voice, the ground trembling under her feet, large chunks of the cavern falling down around her head. As she ran towards him, a large ray of concentrated sunlight shone off the large amulet he wore and like a giant searchlight designed to seek out evil and destroy it, it swept the cavern, dusting thousands of Turok- Hans at a time, destroying more in two seconds then Buffy and her band of Slayers had destroyed throughout the whole battle. She finally reached Spike's side, she could hear Faith's voice in the far background, ordering everyone out but she couldn't move, she was transfixed by the sight of Spike, not William, Spike, her Spike in the sunlight. He had an amazed expression on his face as if he were viewing heaven, with a jolt; she realized it was the look he wore when he was looking at her.

"I can feel it Buffy" he said, the tears began to gather and fall down Buffy's cheeks, this was it.

"What?" she asked, he turned to her, expression still locked in amazement.

"My soul, it's really there." He winced and Buffy's heart gave a twinge. "Kind of stings" He closed his eyes and she realized what he was doing, he was steeling himself to give her up.

"Go on, then" Buffy was frantic; she couldn't lose him, not again, not after all this time.

"No, no, you've done enough, you could still. . ." Spike's popped open and he stared at her.

"No, you've beat them back, it's for me to do the clean-up" From the mouth of the cavern, Faith called down;

"Buffy, come on" before rushing off. Buffy couldn't move, her legs seemingly glued to the constantly shifting and moving ground.

"Gotta move, lamb, I think it's safe to say school's out for bloody summer"

"Spike!" Buffy said, the worry and panic all too clear in her voice.

"I mean it, I gotta do this" He closed his hands once more and put out a hand in the classic imitation of a child's 'leave-me-alone' gesture. Slowly, Buffy threaded her fingers through his. The air around their clasped hands crackled with electricity and their intertwined hands suddenly caught fire. Spike's grip on her tightened, almost subconsciously clinging to her for support. His eyes opened and he stared down at their hands for a moment, then turned his wide eyes to Buffy and she understood, this was his payment. This was his way of repaying his debt his vampiric self had inflicted on the human race. It didn't matter that he wasn't that man anymore, he would always think of himself as that bloody and merciless butcher until he had repaid his debt, until he was cleansed. If she dragged him out of there at that instant, he would never forgive her, she could do it, certainly and wanted to, more then she ever wanted anything in her life. She wanted to be able to wake up every morning with him lying next to her, she wanted to share her jokes and her disappointments with him, she wanted to love him. _So do it, _an interior voice said.

"I love you" she said softly, tears glittering in her eyes. Somewhere deep in the cerulean depths of Spike's own, something clicked into place, the thing that had been missing since the first time she had met him. He was complete; she realized with sudden warmth spreading through her, he was the man he always wanted to be. All of her past betrayals forgotten, she was forgiven. He was perfect, a true guardian angel now, as he had always been for her, no longer flawed, no longer broken, he was magically healed, he was hers forever, no matter what came, he was hers and she was his, as she always had been.

A.N: Alright there you go, that's it. The end, if that ending wasn't exactly what you were hoping for, tough noogies. I couldn't bear to actually write Spike's death but I couldn't think of anything else that would fit in with the rest of the story. Tell me what you think, let me know if this story was any good. Thanks for sticking with me this whole time, ciao.


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